


To be a prince

by Ramen_and_Manuscripts



Category: Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deciet is Madam Carp, I don't know if nosebleeds are triggers, Logan as Julian, M/M, Patton as Anneliese, Remus is Previnger, Roman is Dominic, Sanders sides as Princess and the Pauper barbie characters, This is not as stupid as it sounds I promise, Virgil as Erika, this is really fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-04 06:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 20,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramen_and_Manuscripts/pseuds/Ramen_and_Manuscripts
Summary: ( I don't own sanders sides or Barbie's Princess and the Pauper) (This is a more realistic version of the movie.Two Boys were born into completely different situations on the same day 17 years ago.Patton is a Prince of a Kingless kingdom with a plummeting economy who has been set up with a rich stranger who will never live up to his actual love- his advisor and best friend Logan.Virgil is living and slaving away under the hands of the abusive Mr. Dee of Mr. Dee's Tailor shop, trying to pay off a debt his parents had gathered feeding and clothing him as a child- all the while side hustling as a busking musician to feed himself when the scraps he's provided aren't enough.Their lives are so different they shouldn't ever meet- right?Well. Fate had a different plan.





	1. Chapter 1: Logan and Patton

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much if you've decided to read this! I hope you like it so far- and if you do, drop a kudos and a comment to let me know what you think!!!

Once upon a time, exactly 17 years ago- two baby boys were born. One, a little prince named Patton- born the heir to the throne with two loving parents- the king and the queen. Prince Patton would have only the best life could give. The second child was a boy named Virgil. His parents loved him very much- but unfortunately the family was stricken with poverty and they feared they couldn’t take care of him the way they should. Now, 17 years later, Patton has learned his place in the monarchy while mourning the loss of his father, while Virgil slaves away in a tailor shop under the spiteful Mr. Dee- paying off the debt his parents placed on him.

Their different lives appeared to ensure that the two never met- but fate decreed they  _ would _ .

……................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“Patton, please focus.”   
  
Patton can’t focus. His mind is endlessly wandering, lately, and it’s been annoying his Junior Advisor Logan. Logan isn’t one for wandering. He’s one for orderly thoughts and straight forward words.

The man in question is somewhat snobbish in appearance, with an upturned nose and narrow eyes and significant height so he’s always looking down on you. The intimidating effect is somewhat lessened by his thick-lensed glasses that are far too big for his face, which magnify his eyes to almost comical proportions. Many have told him that he could be handsome if he took them off, with his sharp jawline, dark hair, and mysterious demeanor, but Logan likes to see so he just shrugs them off. Patton had always thought he was handsome with them  _ on _ so that only furthered his resolve to wear them.

Patton’s a daydreamer, always living beyond the room that he’s in, yet always present. Logan thinks he may be the sweetest person in the world. No matter who he’s interacting with, no matter how rude or horrible they are, Patton finds a way to be nice to them. That’s just how he is. He’s also very pretty. His face is soft yet thin and pointed(if Logan didn’t know how much he actually ate, he’d be worried.) He’s shortish, has long eyelashes and full lips and overall very exaggerated features, his hair is soft and fluffy- and his eyes are the brightest green that Logan has ever seen. They’re stunning. They make you lose focus.

  
Speaking of, Patton’s still off daydreaming.

Yet Logan can’t really blame him. Patton’s life has drastically changed in just a few days, and for the both of them- it’s not for the better.

Their economy has bombed due to the mine allegedly running out of gold, and due to that being Hilltop Kingdom’s biggest trade, the whole kingdom is struggling to get back up on their feet. His mother, in result, had listened to her advisor Remus and set up an arranged marriage without even asking Patton about it. Of course, there’s no need to ask Patton about it. It’s his duty. He doesn’t have the right to say no.

“Patton, if you don’t get dressed I’ll bring in the dressers and I know you don’t like that.”   
  
Patton rolls his eyes, turning away from the window and to his- well- past lover. Logan had immediately broken it off with Patton when he heard of his engagement- to Patton’s dismay. He wanted to keep it up in secret but Logan’s too virtuous for that. Kind of. 

They’ve only kissed a few times. 

“Okay,  _ Mom _ .” Patton giggles. “I’m getting dressed.” 

He turns to his closet, where his newly tailored outfit is hanging since the servants placed it there last night. He starts pulling it on as Logan lists his responsibilities for the day.

"You have an appearance this morning at the historical society, and then there is a tea afterwards where you are supposed to mingle."

"I love mingling!" Patton grins, pulling on his baby blue suit coat over his dress shirt and pajama bottoms."How do I look?"

Logan peers over his spectacles, looking up from his list. "Gorgeous as always, sir." 

"Awe stop it." Patton giggles, pulling on his pants.

"As I was saying, after lunch you will have your final practice for meeting your, uh, betrothed. Tomorrow’s the big day, as you know."

"I know." Patton whines. "I hate this."

"Me too, love." Logan says, rolling up his list and handing it to Patton, fingers lingering on his longer than necessary. "I need to go talk to Remus. Please be ready soon, you need to be at practice in an hours time."

"Ok." Patton sighs, turning back to the window and gazing out of it sadly. Logan feels helpless.

He can't help him. Patton's upset because he got too attached to Logan, even if they had an idea that it would never work anyway. And damn, of course Logan is torn up about it. He loves the kid. He was hoping they'd maybe get married one day, after Patton's mother said that they  _ could _ and got both of their hopes up. Logan doesn't want to be a king, or even a king's husband, he just wants to be with Patton, the only person who can make him laugh genuinely.

Royalty is overrated. Patton is  _ not _ .

...

Patton hears Logan close the door behind him, and he sighs heavily, staring intently at the rose gardens. Just one day left of freedom, one day left in which loving Logan isn't treason- not that he won't be committing treason for the rest of his life anyway. He's going to love Logan until the day he dies. Logan understands him. Logan loves him. 

And he loves him because of  _ him _ , not because of his status...and that's amazing. Logan's smart and he makes Patton think- and he teaches Patton about rocks which is fun, and he doesn't call him childish for his love of horrible puns and coloring with crayons and pasta shaped like safari animals.

Just one more day.

Maybe he can convince Logan to take him out to town instead of practice. Maybe they can rent a hotel room and sleep side by side for the first and last time. Maybe Patton can see what it's like out in the real world and what his subjects live like before he's trapped in the castle and forced to act as king.

Logan couldn't deny him that.

  
One day of  _ freedom _ .


	2. Chapter 2: Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey wassup

Virgil is almost free.

He stares at Remy without really seeing him as he complains about petty school things while preparing the measurements for Prince Patton's engagement party suit. They have a measurement sheet for him, updated every few months, because Mr. Dee's tailor shop is proudly the creator of the majority of the Prince's garments. In result, Virgil and Remy have created most of the Royal wardrobe. Ironic, right? They work with materials worth more than their own lives.

Virgil nods along with Remy's rant, fingers twitching impatiently as Remy lethargically gathers the patterns. He's almost free.

When Remy finally turns to him, Virgil snatches the papers for the dress pants. "I'll start on the trousers. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Remy shrugs.

Virgil sets up his work station as quickly as possible. If he can get this done quick, maybe he can go out to town and busk for some money.

Virgil is a singer. He plays a ratty guitar on street corners with a tin can at his feet, hoping someone actually has enough money to spare for the dirty-looking tailor.

He lays out the selected fabric, a shimmery deep purple that reminds Virgil of the galaxy.

Remy mirrors him with the material for the suit coat. Patton has always been unique in his love for different colors. Before they had become the main supplier for Patton, they had made many suits for the king himself (may his soul rest in peace) who only liked white or black with gold trim in varying states of extravagance. At least this Patton fellow is interesting.

Humming, he blows the bangs out of his eyes and sets to work. He's pretty good at his job. He's been making clothes to some extent since he was seven after his parents were deported to work in labor camps after getting themselves in massive debt. He's left with the aftermath, paying for the food he ate through his childhood. They did their best.

But in result, Virgil is working himself to death while being fed scraps that he wouldn't feed to a dog. He's imprisoned, malnourished, exhausted, abused, and forced to sneak out in secret to try and collect coins to buy pieces of bread or fruit to try and sustain himself. He's always light headed and his lips are always chapped. Some people say he looks like a vampire. They aren't wrong. His black hair probably helps bring out the paleness of his face.He faints often, waking up to either be yelled at by Mr. Dee or looked at funny by Remy, who is Mr. Dee's nephew and is therefore treated a lot better and also oblivious to Virgil's pain. He's annoying. Virgil also has insane hours 9 in the morning to 8 at night- which would be fine but Virgil is an insomniac so he doesn't even get much sleep. He's always tired. When Dee is in, he can't even sneak out. Remy doesn't snitch, which is nice.

Virgil is so lost in thought that he doesn't notice the heavy footfalls of Mr.Dee retreating out of his office and down the stairs.

He doesn't notice when he comes up behind him. He does notice however when Mr. Dee slams Virgil's head down hard onto his work table, his right eye not too far from his pin cushion. He feels his nose crack, the pain rushing from the front of his face, to the back of his skull, and back to throb in his nose.He straightens up arrogantly, stemming the flow of blood leaking from his face.

"What did I tell you about humming on the job? You've got to stay focused."

I am focused.

Mr Dee snarls. To anyone else he looks respectable, a slender man in a tight fitting suit with wide eyes and round eyebrows. He wears a yellow bowtie and a friendly looking bowler hat, he speaks in a pleasant and soothing voice.

But Virgil knows.

Inside he's just a snake.

"You made me almost drip blood on the fabric sir."

"You'd have to pay every penny I spent on it if you did, Mr. Sanders."

"Asshole." Virgil mutters, standing up to head to the bathroom, but his free hand is caught by half amused and half pissed off Mr. Dee.

"What did you say to me, boy?"

Virgil turns to look in his eyes, too annoyed and tired to be afraid. "I meant what I said, sir."

"You might want to be nice to me, kid. Keep up an attitude like that and you'll be working with me for another 37 years!"

Virgil pulls out of his grip, trying to ignore the blood dripping down his hand and onto his shirt sleeve, trying to keep it out of his mouth so he can maintain some sort of dignity.

He stands straighter. "My debts over half way paid!"

"There's interest, isn't there my darling?"

"I'm not your anything. This isn't fair."

"Your parents should have thought of that before they borrowed so much."

"They did it to feed me."

Dee looks Virgil up and down a few times, a malicious glint in his eyes, and a mocking smile plastered on his face."Their mistake, huh?"

Virgil just holds his stance, refusing to react. Mr. Dee does the same. Silence overtakes them and Remy pointedly keeps working, his face turned away.

Finally, a drop of blood splashes to the floor- creating a shiny red spot at their feet, and whatever staring match the two were engaged in broke.

Dee waves his hand, "Go get washed up and get back to work. You're already behind schedule. Our prince needs this suit in 3 days. I'll see you later."

He says that last part to Remy. He nods, saluting him before returning to his work quickly and efficiently. The little shit. He's neither quick or efficient.

Virgil resolves to go out to sing later tonight if it kills him. He needs a distraction.

He leaves to wash the blood off of his hands.


	3. Chapter 3: Remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading so far!! You're all amazing :D

Remus has made well for himself. He was, many many years ago, in line for the crown in his kingdom, Valleyside Kingdom. But unfortunately, due to his eccentric behaviour gone a bit too far, he was exiled and disowned. Pissed off, he left, in search for another way to gain power, a crown,  _ any crown _ . He’d eventually made his way into the good graces of the King of Hilltop Kingdom, became his Royal advisor, and set up a plan to kill him, his young wife, and his son.

It was very half baked and off the cuff and it- didn’t work.

Remus minds his step as he walks around the beggars touching his feet and asking for money. He resists the very overwhelming urge to crush their fingers beneath his toes.

He had succeeding in killing the king with his plan b (drowned him in the bathtub. The cause of death didn’t make it to the news, yet Remus tried to spread the rumor as far as he could inconspicuously) , but not the queen and the prince. He is still below two people in succession to the crown, so he had to make a new plan. 

That plan is, in fact, to win the Prince’s heart and marry him. Then he will be king. He can kill Patton later.

He shut down the goldmine(somehow, he’s still proud of himself for pulling that off successfully), stalling the economy and bringing about the need for someone rich to save the day. In fact, he had planted that thought in the queen’s mind so when he comes forth with all of the gold that he had inherited (stolen), she will be more willing to accept him as her new son in law.

He nods at the guards at the entrance to the mine and steps into the main entrance, which is lit pleasantly with gas lamps. At the table are his little minions(he doesn’t even know their names), as he requested of them, and they both look nervous. 

“Hello?”   
  
Remus isn’t very tall, so he uses the simple tactic of not letting any emotions through to his face to scare people to submission instead.

The two mutter a response.

“So?”   
  


“Uh- well- since you’ve been gone some things have - happened.”   
  
Remus’ anger flares even though he doesn’t know what they’re regarding. He sits down. “Is the gold all safe?”   
  
“Oh- yes yes-” The other minion cuts in, “Everything is going to plan! Except for- for - one thing.”   
  


“What thing?” Remus stays calm.

“The- the Prince is to be engaged-”   
  
Remus has to take a moment. He wants to scream. It’s been  _ ten years _ , this plan was  _ finally  _ set into place and the  _ idiot woman _ decided for the first time to make a decision without him.

  
He has to think. There must be a way to fix this? He can simply kill the fiancee- depending on who he is, he supposes. If he is too important then it could be supicious.   
  
“To whom?”   
  
“King Roman of Valleyside Kingdom, sir.”   
  
It takes a lot more restraint(that he doesn’t really have) to not scream this time. His idiot brother, Roman- who is  _ already a king _ , wants to take away his only chance to be royal again? To have power? He could kill him.

But he won’t.    
  
He can’t.

He’s his brother.

He’ll just have to get him out of the way.

“Alright. New plan. We’re to kidnap Patton before he can get married, and you are going to carry it out. When I rescue the Prince and they ask me however they can repay them, I will ask for his hand in marriage. It’s simple. It's brilliant.”

  
  
This is going to work. It’s going to be fine.

He isn’t crazy, and soon, everyone who’s ever said he is going to eat their words. And maybe some bullets. He wants to reinstate the death penalty.


	4. Chapter 4: Patton, Roman, and Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey beautiful people! If you like my writing, feel free to check out my other work "Cursed to be Obedient!" It's a mess of emotions but it's fun.
> 
> And thank you for reading this far! Remember if you like it to drop a comment and kudos!!

Patton’s exhausted. He’s never detested mingling as much as he has today. Finally, at home in his room and waiting for Logan to show up so he can ask him about taking him to town, he breathes normally. He’s stressed, still- of course he is, but he’s in a state of calm at the moment. The eye of the hurricane.

To pass the time, he starts looking at his rocks. Logan, whenever he goes places because he’s significantly well travelled, brings back a rock and tells Patton to identify it. He’s not very good at it, but every time he figures one out he makes a little label and adds it to his collection. 

Finally, there’s a polite knock at the door and Logan slips in.    
  
“Lolo!” Patton smiles, “Look, I identified this one! It’s iron pyrite-”

Patton giggles- 

“Amirite?”   
  
Logan doesn’t laugh.   
  
“Anyway, I think this is what folks call fools gold. It’d be nice if it was real, though. Maybe I wouldn’t have to marry King Roman. Look at these other ones. Did I classify them right?”   
  
Logan peers over his shoulder briefly and nods, “Of course, your highness.”   
  
Patton’s smile drops. “Your- highness? Logan, It’s just me. You never call me that.”   
  
“The queen sent me. She would like to inform you that King Roman’s ambassador has just arrived with an engagement gift. You are not required to go downstairs but she wanted to inform you.”   
  


Patton’s heart drops. “Already? I guess our time- I guess-” He pauses, trying to compose himself and stand up straighter- “Logan? Can you take me to town tonight? It’s our last day together.”

“Patton.” Logan groans, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Patton employs what Logan calls his Puppy dog eyes- “Please???”   
  
………..

Roman wants to get to know this Patton before he presents himself as a suitor. His reasoning? He doesn’t want to make him nervous. Does Roman make people nervous?   
  
Yes.   
  
He can’t really tell  _ why _ . Maybe it’s the title of king at such a young age? 

Maybe this whole thing will feel more natural if he gets to know the young prince first. The kid is only 17- and though this is basically a business transaction, he wants Patton to be comfortable. And honestly- Roman really hopes that they click. He doesn’t want to marry someone he hates.

Patton seems like a lovely boy, however. He isn’t too worried about that. He’s more worried that Patton won’t like  _ him. _

That’s why he’s doing this. So he can back out of this if it’s going to be disastrous. 

Sometimes that’s the only choice.

…..

Patton stands up abruptly and walks away when Logan doesn’t immediately answer. In all honesty, of  _ course _ he wants to say yes. In fact, he wants to steal him away and bring him to a countryside far far away from all this responsibility. Of course Patton is more than capable of handling it- he’s smarter than people give him credit for- but he doesn’t want him to have to deal with it unless if he wants to. Sometimes, Logan can tell that he doesn’t.

Logan follows behind. Patton looks off the balcony, at the stray cats in the garden.    
  
“Look at them, Lolo.”   
  
Logan does. 

“Don’t you ever want to be a cat? Carefree and chasing butterflies?”   
  
Logan has to chuckle. “Not particularly.”   
  


There’s a silence. Out of habit, Logan places a hand on Patton’s waist. Patton is easy to lean into the touch, wrapping Logan's other arm around his chest so his hands meet in the middle, encircling him.

“What- what do you think King Roman will be like?”   
  
Logan sighs resignedly, pulling Patton tighter and placing his head on his hair. “I’m sure he will be- suitable.”   
  
Patton plays with Logan’s cufflinks. Logan can tell Patton’s about to cry but this time he doesn’t have anything to say to stop it. Patton is very emotional, sometimes jumping to irrational conclusions and then crying about them.    
  
It’s something Logan had started to be good at talking him out of.

“I- I know it’s the right thing to marry him- but the whole time I’ll wish it was  _ you _ .”   
  
“Patton, there’s much more to the world than me. You may like this gentleman. He may be better for you.” Logan shrugs. Patton doesn’t reply, turning instead to bury his face in Logan’s chest. He shakes his head but makes no noise.   
  
Logan pets down Patton’s hair, searching for something to say.

“Apparently Roman is a lover of music...he plays three instruments.”   
  
“Three?” Patton mumbles against him. A man in a red coat steps into the garden and Logan hurriedly takes a few steps back, dragging Patton safely back into his room with him. He strokes his hair again so he doesn't ask why.   
  
“Oh yes, the dulcimer, the trumpet, and the piano. Isn’t that -”   
  
Isn’t that what? Cool? 

Not really. Patton can play 5. 

  
“Patton?”   
  
“Hmm.”   
  
“You may want your coat.”   



	5. Chapter 5: Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Again, thank you so much if you'd read this far, and I hope you're liking it! As always, leave a kudos or a comment to let me know what you're thinking!!

Under the guise of picking out flowers for the wedding, the pair make it into a carriage and out of the castle gate- though the picking of flowers is definitely not Patton's job. No one questions Patton, and therefore no one questions Logan. It was easier than Patton thought it would be.

Patton watches the changing scenery with an interest. Sure. He leaves the castle sometimes, but every time is rare and to be treated as an adventure. This is no exception. Actually, this may be the last time he actually sees any real extent of his kingdom in a long time. Though both of the suitors are male, Patton will be taking the less dominant of the two positions. He will be the "stay at home ruler", the one that makes fewer appearances and deals with the paperwork- because he's younger and has had a higher education. This is something that Patton and his mother had discussed together several days back. She assured him that it was almost more important than the steering hand, that without Patton, King Roman would have to do it all on his own and almost withdraw from the public completely. That's what he's been doing for a few months, and that's why a union will be necessary for him. He will take Patton to his kingdom and leave Patton's mother behind to do exactly what Prince Roman was trying to get away from- but at least they'll have a strong ally and money right?

Right?

Patton wants to cry again.

He and Logan sit on opposite sides of the trolley, their hands respectively on their knees. Patton wants to curl up against him and go to sleep, forever… but… he loves his mother and his kingdom just as much as he loves Logan so he refrains from doing so- trying his best to distance himself mentally as well as physically.

Kind of. Only sometimes. Sometimes Patton forgets or doesn't care, but at least he's making some sort of effort, right?

They don't talk.

When the carriage finally comes to a stop, Logan hurries to help Patton out. 

The moment Patton steps foot outside, his senses are assaulted with a million things. Loud, unrestrained chatter and music, the scent of grease and fresh fruit wafting through the street, colors- bright  _ vibrant _ colors everywhere he looks- people everywhere, smiling, laughing, scowling, begging...

  
  


Wow. Just-

_wow_.  


"Sometimes all you need is a little fresh air." Logan interjects amicably, patting his back- "come on, close your mouth. You'll catch flies."

"Is this the marketplace?" Patton mutters in awe, he's never seen a market like this.

"This is the part of town I used to live in." Logan shrugs, " lots of people set u[ stalls but it is very informal. A little ways down from here is the mine and the downtown."

Patton squeals at the first part of his statement. "Which one was your house?"

"It was more of a room really. We couldn't afford a house." 

Patton's heart clenches. He does this all the time. Stupid. Not everyone grew up rich like you, Patton. "Sorry, Lo… I didn't mean-"

"I know." Logan smiles. He seems more at ease here, for some reason. Maybe it’s because this is where he grew up. Maybe it's because he isn't being monitored out here in this crowd. Maybe because a different setting can sometimes make you forget what's wrong with you. He points up at a building with windows in neat columns and rows. "Top floor, 3rd window to the left. I did all my studies there."

Patton giggles, and feeling bold, takes Logan's arm. Logan doesn't resist.

"It's so nice out here! No one knows who we are…"

"Isn't it?"

"Ooh, look at the flowers!" Patton pulls Logan to the stall. The merchant man eyes them warily, and Logan stares at him right back. The man eventually looks down. "Isn't this what we're actually here for?"

"Not really." Logan says, but Patton just laughs, captivated by all of the flowers like they aren’t already in the garden at home. It's different out here.

Logan plucks one and pays for it. It's a daisy. He puts it in Patton's hair, behind his ear- cupping his cheek as he pulls his hand back. Patton sadly leans into it- which breaks whatever spell Logan was stuck in because he abruptly drops his hand limply to the side. Patton feels cold.

"You look so cute." Logan mutters, pulling Patton away from the flowers and the skeptical man.

Patton blushes. "I think I want these at my wedding then."

"Daisies are not traditional-"

"I know. I'm not either."

Logan looks away, a look in his eye that Patton doesn't recognize. "Let's look at some of the food."

They've made it to a denser part of town, where food stalls are every two steps and people are so close together that Patton has to brush up against them to pass. It’s exciting.

Suddenly a smell hits his nose. "Is that cider?"

"Yes…" Logan pauses, smiling. "Would you like some?"

Patton nods enthusiastically, "yes! Logan, you are the  _ apple  _ of my eye!"

Logan pretends to glare at him before telling him to stay put and walking to wait in line.

Patton looks around in amusement at everything going on around him, eyes finally resting on something he didn't plan to see. The mine. It's boarded up and abandoned.

How many people did its closure put out of work? Are they okay? Starving? Homeless?

  
He glances around at the bustling streets, noticing more beggars than he’d originally recognized...

Patton's resolve hardens.

He has to marry this guy or find another way to fix this. Somehow.

He gazes at Logan’s silhouette lovingly.

Hopefully he can find a way to fix this without marrying Roman.

He looks away, anywhere else, and his eyes rest on a boy sitting on a street corner tuning his guitar. He's about to sing and he's seemed to have already gathered a crowd around him.

That sounds nice. Maybe Patton will watch.


	6. Chapter 6: Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! You guys are awesome! As always, leave a comment and a kudos to let me know what you think!! I hope you like it so far!

Virgil made it out of Dee's 15 minutes ago, after finishing pinning down the pattern for the pants of Prince Patton's suit- and he only has an hour or two, tops, so this has to be fast. He's hungry and tired and his nose hurts, even if he didn’t actually break it like he thought he had. He tunes his guitar quickly, setting up shop on a bench just outside the quote unquote “marketplace”(a cesspool of pointy and violent elbows) and, to his delight, draws a small anticipatory crowd.

Hmm. What to sing?

What will give these people a show?

He decides against starting with a ballad, as those can be perceived as boring, so he starts with an upbeat tune that he wrote about a year ago. Of course, it's about hope, as all of his songs are. He can’t draw any happiness from anything else...except sleep maybe. And dreams. He should write a song about dreams.

He loves the sound of change in a tin. Grinning, he howls the final lyrics and strums the final chord, leaving the notes to resonate in the air, somehow sustaining it's power through the busy street and it's chatter. There's some applause.

Virgil never expects much so he's glad he gets any. He glances inconspicuously at his tin. There's enough in there to snag a half of loaf of bread.

Virgil looks up to thank the audience and he meets the eye of a boy…

A boy in a suit that he  _ made. _

What?

He made that suit for Prince Patton...unless it's not his and it only looks like his. That's happened before. Dreadful etiquette, to steal someone else’s pattern just because it’s “on trend”...honestly the most _tasteless_-

Virgil's ripped out of his thoughts by a person blocking his sun, creating a shadow for Virgil to bathe in. 

Oh no.

"THIS is what you do when you sneak out, then!"

Virgil flinches, standing up at the abrupt noise. He hands off his guitar to whoever is standing next to him and clutches at his tin.

"Uh- Mr. Dee sir?”

"Of course. Begging for scraps. I feed you enough at home, boy." He scoffs, looking Virgil up and down. He's Mr. Dee's prey, finally caught after a long long chase. Now Virgil himself is about to become food- fresh meat.

Despite this, Virgil draws himself up to full height and laughs spitefully. "You feed the cat more than me."

"Give me the money."

"I  _ earned _ it sir."

"And you  _ owe _ me." Dee snatches the cup away and shakes the coins into his hands, turning up his nose at the fact that there's so little to steal. "Did you think that you could run this little scheme without me finding out? I had Remy follow you. Get back to work  _ right now _ or I'll smash that little instrument of yours on the ground in front of you. Remy will assure you get back.  _ I _ have places to be."

With that he stalks away. Remy stands awkwardly at Virgil's side, admittedly looking somewhat ashamed.

"We should get back." He mutters to the ground.

Virgil takes his guitar back from the bewildered bystander and thanks him, looking down at it sadly. It was his mothers.

If Dee smashed it Virgil may have killed him right there.

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"Please come back with me." Virgil looks at him coldly. He's short and somewhat round, with a full face and nervous eyes. He moves slow. He's everything that Virgil can’t be. Relaxed, working a lax after school/weekend job to supplement what he already owns, well fed. That makes him annoying. Remy can't meet his eyes for long. He looks at the dirt again. "Look, I'm sorry I trailed you. I didn't want to, I swear."

Virgil nods.

"Ok. Then cover for me when you go back. I'm staying here."

"Are you going to be ok? Is your nose ok?"

"I'm fine. Just- I'll be back soon. Okay?"

Remy nods and lumbers away.

Virgil may not get fed tonight...especially now. He has to make  _ something _ .

He places his tin back on the ground, and goes to sit again. His audience had vacated during the exchange so he has to draw a new one.

  
  


Shouldn't to be  _ too  _ hard.

But before he could start playing-  _ clang _ .

He looks up instinctively- "I haven't even started playing yet- oh! It's-"

It's him.

"What a beautiful song you sang before!" The boy smiles, fiddling with his shirt sleeves. The brown hooded coat he's wearing (not of Virgil's design) is covering most of his features, but the boy's voice is very beautiful, like bells. 

"Oh, thank you-" Virgil glances into his cup...there must be quadruple of what he had earned on his last song and more. "Sir this is too much-"

"It should cover what you lost." He shrugs, pulling his hood down.

"Woah." Virgil stands up, tempted to touch the face right in front of him because he's sure that it must belong to him. It's the face he sees in the morning when he gets ready for the day, with the exception of it being framed with soft brown curls instead of straight and dark locks. He has the same large sunken green eyes, broad nose, full lips- much cleaner but otherwise identical. “We could be  _ brothers _ .”

"We appear to be somewhat similar- don't we?" The boy chuckles, blushing slightly. "My name's Patton."

He sticks his hand out to shake, somewhat jerky as if it's something he rarely does. Oh yeah. It is. This is the  _ prince _ . He only gets  _ bowed _ to because he’s  _ royalty _ .

Virgil takes his hand anyway, shaking it though Patton's grip is limp. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Oh sorry… that was rude." Virgil reprimands himself, straightening up. "I just- you're the prince. Aren't you?"

"How-"

Virgil grins, "What other Patton our age would be living in this kingdom? Also- I made that suit for the Prince so I'd be concerned if anyone else was wearing it."

"You made this?"

"Oh yeah. Took me a while too, Remy was out."

"Oh." He looks down at it, looking kind of put out. " well- what's  _ your _ name?"

"Virgil-" Virgil minds to bow his head a little, hoping the prince wouldn't be upset that he wasn't going to actually bend down on one knee "Your highness. And if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

Patton blushes again, this time glancing away back to the marketplace. "I'm getting married next week."

"Oh, congrats!" Virgil sounds too surprised. This may be common knowledge but Virgil doesn't really keep up with the latest royal gossip despite being so wrapped up in Patton's wardrobe life.

"Not really. It's arranged. I already love someone else. I came here with him so I could- well. I don't know. It hurts more than anything.” Patton shrugs, just looking plain sad. I guess it’s not easy to be royal either.

Well, Virgil reasons with himself, it’s a bit of a case of “first world problems” but that is pretty rough. Marrying someone he doesn’t know and leaving someone loved behind? That would be horrible. Not that he’s ever met someone like that before, or even loved someone before. He hasn’t had time for that, really. His life consists of sew, sew, sew, sleep, eat, sew.

“That- I’m sorry, Patton.”   
  
“Oh- it’s okay!” Patton grins at him, hiding away that pain that was just so prominent on his face- “It’s my duty. I genuinely  _ want _ to fix the problems that my Kingdom has. I love everyone so much- I just wish that- you know. I don’t like that I’m a pawn being swapped for money. When I marry King Roman then I’ll be whisked away to his kingdom to live with him.”   
  
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Virgil grips his guitar tight, and then busies to put it back in its case. He won’t need any more money for today.

“Oh, forgive me. I was being rude. What’s your story?” Patton asks graciously, stepping forward to take the can that he was fumbling with. Virgil lets him so he can clasp his guitar case closed properly.  
  
“Well-” Virgil starts, standing up slowly- “I work for Mr. Dee, as you may have gathered. I live there and he feeds me too, very minimally, because my parents got into massive debt with him. My whole life I’ve been trying to pay it off. I’m- _almost _there I think… he doesn’t exactly tell me. I make most of your clothes. I want to be a musician, though. See the world- meet people- sing for people. That’s all I want. Soon, I’ll be out.”  
  
Virgil wonders why he’s telling this virtual stranger this. Because they have the same face?  
  
“I busk so I can eat. Dee barely gives me scraps. A few coins can get me bread or cheese and that’s enough for me.”  
  
“You’re an absolute twig, Virgil!” Patton coos, handing Virgil’s money back “I need to take you back with me so I can feed you.”  
  
“Sir- that’s nice but-”  
  
Patton’s face falls. He looks so pained that Virgil feels pained for him. “I know. I- I wish I could have normal friends like you, and that I could date my boyfriend and wait to marry when I’m ready, I wish I could study rocks instead of war tactics- I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I want to be a scientist, not a king. I just- I want _out_.”  
Virgil hugs his arms, looking sadly at the man in front of him. “That makes two of us. Soul siblings I guess. Same face to boot.”  
  
Patton giggles, pitching forward to put his hand on Virgil’s arm. “I think you’re right! We could be twins!”  
  
Virgil laughs also. The man’s laugh is contagious. His whole being is contagious. He wants to hug him and he doesn’t even know him. “Except for the hair.”  
  
“Yeah.” Patton shrugs. “What about this birthmark?”  
  
He shrugs the coat off of his shoulders unceremoniously and pulls aside the shirt below to reveal his collarbone, where a splotch of milky brown that kind of resembles a hedgehog resides. Virgil laughs again, shaking his head. “Nope, unfortunately.”  
  
“But everything else- of course sans the hair- is perfect-”

Virgil backs up when an intimidating man looms behind Patton, carrying two mugs of steaming hot cider, by the smell.   
  


“Patton? And- emo Patton?” He looks somewhat confused, handing them both a cider when one of them was obviously meant for himself. “What’s going on?”   
  
“Logan, Darling!” Patton launches himself onto Logan’s arm, who looks almost as disconcerted as Virgil feels. This must be the boyfriend. Virgil just regards the cider he was just given in bewilderment. “I’ve got an idea. We can stay together, and we can save the kingdom. And Virgil here can help us!”   
  
“I what?”

“No, Patton. We need to-”   
  
“ _ Listen to me _ .”   
  
“Patton. We need to get back- and- just  _ get off _ .”   
  
Patton looks absurdly hurt. Virgil bristles. “Hey man, back off.”   
  
The man called Logan just glares back, “Don’t tell me what to do, sir. Patton, I’m sorry, but you’re meeting Roman tomorrow and you cannot think of me as your  _ darling  _ anymore no matter how much we both want it.”   
  
“...you’re right.” Patton takes a deep breath, and then turns away from Logan and back to Virgil. “Virgil, one day you must sing for us at the castle- before I go.”   
  
“Really?” Virgil sounds too hopeful. Of course not. It’s never going to happen.

“Of course. You have a beautiful voice, and- it may help you pay off your debt. As soon as I’m married- it will fix all of this.”

That’s wayyy too good to be true.   
  
“Well. I’ll be here.”   
  
“I’ll send someone for you." Patton claps Virgil's hand for a split second. It burns at the contact. Virgil tries not to let the smile show on his face. "Logan?”   
  
“Yes, sir?”   
  
“Let’s go.”   
  
They retreat, shoulders brushing through the crowd. He can almost see the aura of hurt surrounding them, of longing.   
  
Virgil sips his cider contemplatively.

Life sucks, doesn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cough, check out my other story, cough
> 
> only if you want to of course! Love ya


	7. Chapter 7: Remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one lads

One of Remus’s female cronies, while posed as a maid, snuck into Prince Patton’s room last night and covered his face with a chloroform soaked rag as he slept. He was knocked out and carried to a small shack in the woods, where he was locked in a room. He only has contact with one person, who shall feed him 3 times a day. He’s well taken care of. The only thing that is wrong is that he is, in fact, kidnapped against his will and constantly screaming and crying and trying to find a way to climb out the chimney. All is going according to plan.

  
This morning Remus planted a note on his desk stating that he’s run away indefinitely because he doesn’t want to marry King Roman. The queen took the bait wonderfully, the ambassador was pissed as hell, and he threatened to cancel the wedding if she wasn’t “found” by search parties (lead by Remus) by the end of the day. They  _ aren’t _ going to find her and there  _ isn’t _ going to be a wedding.   
  
All is going to be well.    
  
Soon it will be  _ him _ on that throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I updated my other story a few days ago but I don't think it reached many people, so if you're bored go check it out!


	8. Chapter 8: Logan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey Hey you incredible people!! Like, I can't even believe how supportive you guys have been! Old Barbie movie fans unite! Also if you aren't a Barbie fan then this is a totally new concept to you and that's awesome too because the people who see the movie more or less knows how it ends haha. Though, this book is a lot different than the movie for sure.

Logan is really _really_ concerned. Patton is not one to  _ run away _ from his responsibilities, no matter how much he doesn’t like them. Also, he’d looked at the note and whoever wrote it was using vocabulary way too advanced for him. Patton’s smart, but his speech has never been overly eloquent. Also, he wrote on one of his stationary sets that he despises, the one with the thorny roses. He’d always said it looked too mean. Remus was  _ insistent _ that he doesn’t know where Patton is but he’s also giving him really weird vibes that he can’t ignore-

And when he had asked if he could be of any help, all Remus had done was laugh and tell him to and quote-

“Stick to your books, schoolboy.”

Not the most hurtful “Haha nerd” comment he’s gotten, nor the most creative. He’d expected better of The Royal Pain in the Ass.

But Patton’s the main priority right now. Remus may be an inconvenience but he’s overall harmless.

He needs to find him in time for this wedding. He hates it, but it’s true. It’s not his place to do anything else but be as helpful as he can, and he can only think of one person to which Patton would go- to that boy Virgil that he’d met yesterday...and if not he has a back up plan.

The bell rings as he steps into the damned shop. On display all around him are sharp tuxes and flashy waistcoats all made for nothing less than the richest out there. Mr. Dee rushes to greet him, and upon seeing the insignia on his jacket, even more enthusiastically than he assumes would be the per-usual. When he’d asked for Virgil instead of one of his beloved sets, he literally pouted. He grumbled unintelligible things as he brought him to the back and then slammed the door behind him as he left. Remy startles, looking somewhat akin to a deer caught in headlights. Logan can’t help but smile a little to himself. It’s still interesting to him that he’s intimidating in any way.

Virgil looks uneasy.

"Logan, right? That's your name?"

"Correct."

"Ah, ok." Virgil brings a swath of pin-laden fabric to the sewing machine and starts running it through slowly. "What brings you here?"

"Do you know where Patton is?" Logan asks lowly, glancing at Remy on the other side of the room.

"Excuse me?"

"I thought he may have come to you."

Virgil shakes his head, continuing to focus on his work. "No. Why would he?"

"Well." Logan adjusts his glasses and draws closer so he doesn't have to speak as loud. "He's run away."

Virgil's head snaps up to meet Logan's eyes. "He  _ what? _ Damnit. Damnit!!"

He shouts, unrelated to the conversation. It appears that he has messed up something on the sleeve he's making. Logan cringes in sympathy, that was probably his fault.   
  


"Well, that's what I've been told, though I don't believe it. I need to find him, and I need  _ your help _ ." Now that Logan knows that Virgil hasn't seen Patton then it's definitely something fishy going on. Patton would never just run away, not before trying to convince Logan to come with him first.

Virgil holds up the ruined sleeve and then chucks it away in the scrap bin." _ My _ help? What the hell could I do?"

"Pretend to be him."

Virgil scoffs, "Are you out of your mind? I'm a singer not an actor. Do you think I look like I could pass as a prince?"

"Just listen. You don't need to pass as any prince, Virgil, you need to pass as  _ Patton _ . He's a whole different game of catch. And you already look like him."

He  _ does _ truly look like Logan's ex. Too much so for Logan to be completely comfortable. Perfect. Yet he'll have to figure out what to do with the hair. And the horrendous posture.

"I can't. I'll sing at the wedding, though! Thanks."

"Virgil." Logan says shortly, losing patience. "I'm sure that if this works we can compensate you for whatever is left of your debt. Also, at the castle you will be very well fed and also engaged to a King for a few days."

"Yeah. That's the part that's really turning me off...oh and the fact that if I get caught I will go to  _ prison _ . Or worse..."

"So will  _ I _ . But Patton's in trouble- and this marriage is the only thing we have left to fix this whole mess."

Virgil pauses, setting out the pattern to start again, and he seems to be contemplating this. "You're awfully willing to sell your boyfriend to the highest bidder."

Logan bristles. Of course he doesn't want to pawn Patton off. Who does this kid think he is?

"It’s my duty. Something that Patton understands because it's also his. You wouldn't get it." 

"Oh, I do." Virgil sighs, " I would have ran away a million times if I wasn't determined to pay off what I owe. I'll do it, but you better not just be throwing me to the wolves."

"Never.” Logan smooths out his speech, taking on a more pleasant tone. The kid is agreeing to the plan, after all. “Thank you, Virgil." 

Virgil smiles sadly. "No problem. Patton is kind, he deserves to be saved by his knight in shining armor."

Virgil steps forward to punch Logan in the arm amiably. Logan hesitantly smiles down at him. Was that a test? He doesn't really understand Virgil yet. He's obviously being abused if his nose is any indicator and probably has already paid back what he owed in labor, but he still refuses to leave until he's done his share. He shuffles to Logan's side. He's going to have to tell him to pick up his feet as well as straighten his back, and meet people's eyes and smile with his whole mouth and not only half. There's a lot of work to do.

"Okay. Let's go."

"Wait...now?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Ok."

They leave through the back door without saying a word to Dee. Remy just puts his head down and pretends he didn't see. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're bored and looking for more sanders sides, check out my other story, cursed to be obedient!! 
> 
> You guys are magnificent


	9. Chapter 9:Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey, I'm posting this at around 8:30 at night where I live because I usually get better success in views when it's later? That does make sense, I suppose...fan-fiction is a late night indulgence for some. Anywho, I hope that more people can see it because alot of work is going into it!
> 
> I love all of you amazing people and remember to drop a kudos and a comment to let me know what you think!!

  
"I brought you Patton's coat."

Logan hands it to Virgil, who in turn looks over it in disgust. The workmanship is shoddy and rough, but maybe that was the point of Patton owning it- so he can blend in if he wants to sneak out. He pulls it on, and Logan leaves him to his own devices so the intellectual can drive the carriage himself.

Virgil has never been in a carriage as long as he can remember, or even ten minutes away from Dee's shop... so this is insane. He watches the houses slowly get more spread apart, with less people and more green grass as they ascend the hill. 

The sky is so blue and Virgil feels so free, watching the landscape streak by. This might be fun, and the food will be good. He'll be okay. Probably.

The castle soon comes into view and its biggest thing Virgil has ever seen. Of course he's seen it in the distance and in pictures, but never like this. Depictions like that can never capture the genuine splendor of something so incredible. It towers over the whole kingdom, it’s spires seem to scrape the sky, and the gold trim glints in the bright sunlight. How could anyone run from  _ this _ ?

Logan lets him out of the carriage just inside the gates and tells him to wait as he pulls the carriage into where the servants will take care of the horses. He sits on one of the benches there, just looking around at everything in awe, but incredibly anxious that someone will see him. When Logan comes back he says that they will enter through the back garden and not the front door because the guards in back are always playing cards and don't really care or notice who comes in and out. Virgil thinks that that isn't something to be bragging about but sure… it’s good for them, no weird questions. The castle is oddly quiet, with no one in the hallways or in the rooms. Logan says that it's because they're all looking for Patton. That makes sense.

Finally, they enter Patton's room. The ceiling is as high as Virgil's two story apartment building, the room itself as large as 6 Mr. Dee's shops arranged in a cube. On the wall is a huge-ass painting of Patton-maybe from a few years ago because he looks younger. It really captures him. A goofy grin lights his face and he's wearing a sky blue suit that Virgil vaguely remembers making. His crown is slightly lopsided and his face is sunburnt. It's funny that the portrait painter didn't change these things but Virgil is happy that they didn't. He wouldn't very much like to see Patton blank as a slate, staring forward without expression. At any rate- imagine having a full sized portrait of yourself in your room. Virgil would absolutely hate it.

Logan notices that Virgil is staring. “The likeness is remarkable. Is it not?”   
  
Virgil shrugs. They gaze up at the painting together. “I’m not as nice looking as Patton. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled that wide in my life.”   
  
Logan sighs, clapping Virgil on the shoulder- which makes it burn with sensation. He doesn’t remember the last time a human being touched him in a friendly manner. It’s nice. “We will fix that.”

“Look, you don’t know me.” Virgil starts- kind of indignant. Being rich by itself doesn’t fix everything- just because Virgil’s doing this he doesn’t expect all of his problems to be resolved in return. In fact, he’s not really doing this for anything, really, except maybe to get away from Dee. Maybe to do something important for once in his life.   
  
“I know. Patton likes you though. He’d talked about you forever last night before- well- he wants to become friends with you when he gets back. He thinks you’ve made a connection.”   
  
“Does he?” Virgil turns to Logan skeptically, “Even if he did, I’m just a tailor. He’d never-”   
  
“I don’t know. You never know what will happen. In this case, I have no idea what will happen next.” Logan just looks defeated, “So of course I’m going to hinge everything on you.”

Virgil snorts, and Logan looks at him through narrowed eyes. “Well one thing I _do_ know is that you can’t do that.”

“What? Laugh?” Virgil rises indignantly.   
  
“That was not a laugh, that was a sound that a pig would make.” Logan waves a hand dismissively, turning away.

“Hey! That  _ is _ my laugh!” Virgil calls after Logan, who is retreating fast. “DO YOU JUST WANT ME TO  _ CHANGE _ MY LAUGH? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

  
  
He doesn’t answer. 

Virgil backtracks, looking around. Everything seems delicate and breakable. He decides not to touch any of it. The bed is the size of Virgil’s room. He flops backwards onto it, staring at the canopy above him. Patton must sleep well under a sky of artificial stars.

  
He hears footsteps, Virgil sits up -“Ah so you’ve decided to come back-”   
  


“I have a wig for you.”   
  
“A wig.”

“If you haven’t noticed your hair is black, and Patton’s is brown.”   
  
“We can pretend Patton went through a rebellious phase.”

“No we can’t. I’ll help you put it on.” Logan manhandles Virgil, turning him by the shoulder so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and Logan is half kneeling on the mattress and half standing. He brushes Virgil's somewhat long hair back and into a wig cap. He has Virgil hold the front of the itchy wig to his forehead so he can pull it over the back of his head. “There. You- you look just like him- well. Maybe I should have made you take a bath first.”   
  
“Hey!” Virgil exclaims as Logan licks his thumb and wipes at something on Virgil’s cheek, Virgil slaps it away in disgust. Logan stifles his amusement, drawing back and sticking his hand in his suit coat pocket. It doesn’t fit him very well, Virgil notices. Pity. Logan would look good in a well-fitted suit, being so tall and angular. Maybe he’ll convince him to commision Virgil for one. 

  
Because _damn_ he has a good silhouette.

“You can bathe tonight, I guess, after we reveal you to your husband-to-be.” Logan grins, nudging him with his index finger. “Next is the wardrobe. I suppose you know more about that than I do?”  
  
“I would hope so.” Virgil laughs, dragging himself past the mirrors (he doesn’t want to look), and to the hugeeee closet. He opens the doors and steps in. The somewhat large room (by that he means the size of Virgil’s workshop), is lined with suits, many of which Virgil recognizes as his own. He doesn’t by any means have the exact same measurements as his royal counterpart but he also isn’t radically far off. It won’t be perfect, as Patton is definitely a bit chubbier than he, but the larger fit will make _him_ look larger, which is exactly how he’ll need to look. 

He selects a midnight purple suit, not too fancy but not casual in the slightest. What’s casual for a prince?

  
When he dresses and retreats to put himself on display, Logan nods. “Suits you.”   
  
“Patton?”   
  
“No. You.”   
  


Virgil ducks his head. “Thank you, sir.”   
  
“No need for that. Come on. Look at yourself in the mirror, I’ll show you how to hold yourself.”   
  
Virgil trudges reluctantly to the lengthy mirror, and almost recoils at how different he looks. Different yet the same.   
  
“Fuck that!” He gasps, straightening, turning to admire himself. Wow. What clothes can do, huh?   
  
“No.” Logan reprimands lightly, “No swearing in any capacity, ever. No damns, hells, craps-”   
  
“Crap isn’t a swear.” Virgil retorts-

“Shoots, darns, stupids -”   
  
“Okay this is ridiculous.”   
  
“Ridiculous’-”   
  
“Logan!”   
  
“I’m not kidding.” Logan laughs, for real, and that makes Virgil smile. “Listen, Patton is an  _ angel _ who wishes ill on no one, speaks ill of no one, smiles and sings politely, follows his orders, and does so efficiently. You will have to do the same.”

“That is _completely_ horrible, no wonder he ran away.” Virgil pouts, “He’s a prince not a servant.”   
  
“He lives in luxury.”   
  
“Sounds to me as if he doesn’t have a say in anything! A pretty face? A  _ pawn _ ?”

“No.” Logan shuts down the conversation with a single word and a hand on Virgil’s back. It burns him again and Virgil is starting to feel a bit pathetic at how good the touches feel. “Your posture is horrendous, stand up straighter. Okay. Now smile. No. Not like- okay, try without your teeth. Okay. That’s- okay. Don’t look so pained, Virgil. Relax.”

Virgil tries, he really does, he tries to straighten his shoulders, smile serenely and look at his reflection in the eyes. He sees the lie in them immediately.  _ Ugh _ .

  
“I can’t. Goddamnit, I can’t.” He buries his face in his hands, taking a few steps backwards. Logan just pats his shoulder sympathetically.    
  
“Listen, we have approximately three hours before I intend to present you as the recently recovered prince. Three hours to graduate from Patton university. You game?”   
  
Virgil laughs. This is _crazy_. This is insane. He kind of loves it.    
  
“Of course.”


	10. Chapter 10: Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to my writers block.
> 
> I've been gone for like two weeks and I apologize but school is hectic and lately inspiration has been running thin for me. I hope you guys like this chapter even though it's a baby one!
> 
> I love you guys and as always, be sure to leave a kudos and a comment to let me know what you think!

“Okay, Patton. Think.” Patton recites to himself for the millionth time, staring at the locked door across from his cot.    
  
Patton’s realized after being here for however long that he’s never been very good at thinking and that Logan was the one that was thinking for both of them all along. Logan would have been out before now. Smart, perfect Logan… Oh, what if he died in here? What if he never saw Logan again? What if he never saw his mother again? Oh jeez. Oh--

_ Okay, Patton, stop it.  _

His throat is raw from screaming, his eyes stinging from recently shed tears, his shoulder sore from slamming into the door repeatedly, his hands black from soot from trying to crawl up the chimney like an idiot... He needs to get out and marry this stupid king and save his stupid kingdom from itself, but he can’t even do that because no matter how hard he tries he’s utterly trapped. 

That’s a bad metaphor. He means that while he’s trapped in the cabin, he’s always been trapped in his lifestyle as well. It was stupid. Sorry. Why did he think he could ever be an author?

Or a geologist for that matter. Or anything. Anything more than a goofy kid, anything more than a trophy husband, the second king.

He doesn’t know who kidnapped him, he just fell asleep and woke up here. So far he’s had lunch and breakfast delivered by a woman with flaming red hair and a mean face. He tried to talk to her, plead with her, but she just looked indifferent, closing and locking the door behind her. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Maybe all he can do is wait. His mom will rescue him, or Remus, or Logan or- or  _ someone _ . They’d have to notice he’s gone missing by  _ now _ .

Right?   
  
_ Oh god, maybe not! _   
  
Maybe they think he’d run away, or fell in a river and died...maybe they’re holding a memorial service as he sits here alone…

Maybe the business transaction is ruined so they don’t care where he is anymore.

_ No, Patton, that isn’t logical thinking…. _

They wouldn’t hold him here if there wasn’t a reason- and what other reason could it be to get a rise out of the kingdom?

He can wait.

It will be okay.

Patton tries to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11: Logan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been a bit since I've posted on this story- I'm in a show right now and rehearsals are like-long so I'm never home................ but it's fine 😂. I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Prinxiety is coming up in the next chapter so you can be excited for that). As always, drop a kudos and a comment if you enjoy, and a big thanks to my reoccurring readers because I love you :)

“This is a disaster. Your hands are all dirty.” Logan mutters, “How did I not-”   
  
“Look, I’ll wash my hands.” Virgil rolls his eyes. “I’m tired, dude- can we take a break before he gets here?”   
  
“Sure, sure. You-” Logan sighs, feeling even more stressed than he was before, a tutor standing in a tailor shop. “Come here.”   
  
He grabs Virgil by the upper arm, thinks better of it, and lets go.    
  
“May I escort you to the bathroom, Prince Patton?” Logan offers his arm for Virgil to take.    
  
“Uh-” Virgil fails to articulate anything, just looking on in confusion.

  
“It’s a test. Remember what I taught you?”

“Oh!” Virgil said he wasn’t an actor, but it’s amazing to see how well he can sink into a role. His posture straightens, and a slow smile graces his lips. He looks almost,  _ almost _ , confident. Almost like Patton. “You may, thank you.”   
  
And delicately, Virgil loops his arm through Logan’s and places a soft hand on his bicep. 

“Very good.” Logan smiles, trying not to think of the man on his arm as Patton. “Lets go wash your filthy hands.”   
  
And then the charade is dropped as Virgil flexes his fingers like claws and wiggles them in Logan’s face, using his weight to drag Logan down to his height. “My filthy peasant hands?”   
  
“Shut up.” Logan pulls himself and Virgil upright, chuckling softly. He’s definitely endearing. A friend maybe, if things were different. 

Logan thrusts Virgil’s hands under hot water and instructs him to scrub. He leans against the expansive counter, listening to the running water and figuratively taking his first breath in three hours.

Virgil coughs, breaking the silence. Logan looks at his own fingernails.

“Uh-Logan?”   
  
“Hmm?”

“Do you think I can do this?”   
  
He sounds suddenly small and vulnerable, his ‘rough and tumble’ exterior dropped. Logan doesn’t dare look his way, in fear it might be reinstated. The kid is 17. He’s allowed to be scared.

So is Logan.

“Yes, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.” That’s a definite lie. Logan had no idea what he was doing, if the kid would say yes or if he'd even care enough to try. This whole peace meal 'plan' was a total stab in the dark, a desperate move. Logan doesn’t like to take these chances, because he doesn’t like it when things go wrong.    
  


This time, though? They have a chance. Virgil is perfectly capable of doing this, granted Logan finds Patton  _ fast _ . This has a slim chance of working, and in this shitty situation, a slim chance is enough.

“I- I dunno, I feel like this is a lot, you know? I have pretty bad anxiety...what if I break down or freak out? I- it happens a lot, granted I’m usually alone, but-”   
  
“You can handle it.”   
  
“Can I? You don’t know me!”   
  
“Patton told me you could handle yourself under pressure, and I believe him. You stood up to me, too. You have good instincts, you  _ said _ yes to this... and that says a lot."   
  
“It says I’m stupid.”   
  
“No. It says you’re brave.”   
  
Virgil’s retort dies in his throat.

The clock chimes three.

Virgil straightens up.

"Now?"

"Now."

"Oh God. Gloves?" Virgil holds out his hands for the finishing touch on his outfit, by request of Virgil himself. Logan gives them to him.

"Hands clean?"

"As they'll ever be."

"I'll settle for that." Logan smiles, offering his arm again, which Virgil readily takes. "Remember what we rehearsed."

"Yes. Mother! I'm so sorry- and then a hug, or some form of affection-"

"We practiced the hug." They had to practice because Virgil  _ didn't know how _ .

When Virgil meekly asked " _ how _ ?", Logan was nothing short of shocked. He's so small, too. Not exactly small in the same way that Patton is...but legitimately starving. 

"Yeah, yeah." Virgil grimaces, blushing slightly. "And then I apologize for my lateness, blame it on temporary insanity-"

"Only if they ask." Logan interjects. Insane husbands to be aren't very appealing.

"Yeah. And then. Well. Then, King Roman, right? Get to know him, and then you-”   
  
“Leave to go find Patton, yes.”

"And then I'm on my own."

"You'll be ok. Stop slouching." Logan pats Virgil on the back twice. 

Virgil nods, Logan leaves his side to enter the main throne room to assess the damage.

“Where is he? You  _ said  _ he would be retrieved by now.” The younger advisor looks bored, sitting on a bench while the older one goes off on Remus and the Queen. 

Patton’s mother looks about ready to scream at him, but she smiles instead. “My son will be here at any minute, we do apologize for the wait.”   
  
“Wait? If he isn’t here within the half hour your majesty, the deal is off!”   
  
“Sir, that won’t be necessary-” She searches the room with her eyes for help. “Right, Remus?”   
  
Remus shrugs, picking at his fingernails. Logan groans, quietly closing the door behind him, waiting to be noticed so he can announce Patton. Virgil. Logan could take Remus’ job and do it better.

“Junior Advisor!” The queen calls the moment Logan stands at attention, “Have the men found the prince?”   
  
“Yes Ma’am.”   
  
Remus’ head jerks up, a squeak leaving his lips- his eyes wide and round. He smiles too widely for it to be sinere. 

“Excellent!” The queen looks relieved, hopefully because her son is okay as well as the marriage.

Yet he isn’t.

“May I- uh- present Prince Patton.”   
  
Logan opens the door, and poor Virgil(visibly shaking) walks in lightly with a smile on his face. He nods to Logan, bows his head to the advisors, and hugs his mother, who kisses the synthetic hair. 

“Where have you been! I was so worried about you, darling- all alone out there-”   
  
“I sincerely apologize Mother,” Virgil turns on his heel and makes eye contact with both of the advisors “And you too- I was very inconsiderate and I will never do it again.”

Remus, who had looked incredibly nervous up to this point just now looks confused. 

“I still think we should call off the wedding. This is so unprofessional-” The senior advisor grumbles, but with a look from the seemingly younger advisor, he makes a 180. “But we understand. Happens to everyone. Cold feet?”   
  
He sneeringly raises an eyebrow at Patton- Virgil. He just shakes his head in response unable to respond.

“Anyway. The wedding is back on! The King will present himself tomorrow!”   
  
“Tomorrow.” 

Logan breathes out through his nose. That means he has more time, that’s good. Virgil sighs too. 

  
“Only a few short days before the wedding!” The queen exclaims, shaking Patton’s- Virgil’s shoulder. “Exciting, huh?”   
  
“Oh yeah-”   
  
Remus scoffs, “I guess I’ll start seeing to the arrangements.”   
  
“Thank you Remus!” The queen calls after him. His footsteps echo as he exits the room. “He’s such a responsible young man isn’t he?”   
  
Logan nods, fingers twitching.

He looks at Virgil, who raises an eyebrow.

And then- overcome with a sudden urge, Logan runs after him- ignoring the calls of the queen behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine if everyone who got this far left a kudos ;)


	12. Chapter 12: Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll now... kinda. My other story is like killing me because it's reaching the end and I don't really know how to go from where I am (it's me and my poor planning's fault). If you haven't checked that out yet, it's a decent read and I've worked hard on it :)
> 
> I love all of you so much.
> 
> Tell your friends about my stuff.
> 
> Kudos and Comment.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> I send you all virtual hugs and snacks and a cozy place to read fan-fiction.
> 
> <3 enjoy

Virgil feels utterly abandoned, standing alone in a room full of people he doesn’t know how to act around. 

“That’s so unlike him! I apologize, sirs. Patton- you’re dismissed.” She pats Virgil’s shoulder, pushing him a bit forward. “We’ll talk later.”  
  
“Alright.”   
  
Now what?   
  
Virgil can’t believe he got through that. His anxiety hasn’t been so heightened in a long time, and he hasn’t even met the king yet! One slightly problematic fact is that he can’t take his eyes off the young man next to the advisor guy. He’s so pretty, Virgil almost tripped over his feet the moment he walked into the room(that would have been mortifying) but he didn’t. He has fluffy hair and rosy cheeks and long eyelashes, and he keeps _ looking _ at Virgil and it feels so nice, but Virgil’s engaged now so _ eyes away buddy. _

He starts walking out the way he came but he’s intercepted by the hot- ah- young advisor to the king. 

“Prince Patton, a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out a hand, and assuming he’s going for a shake (you know like men do), Virgil takes it. The man leans down to kiss Virgil’s knuckles instead, a lingering sweet thing that makes Virgil’s heart speed up like mad.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.”

“Ah, so polite. No need for that, you’re the Prince! I should be bowing to _ you _.”

“That-” Virgil chokes. This guy. Is so charming. Why. “That won’t be necessary.”

The man smiles, tilting his head to the side. “Walk with me?”  
  
“Huh?”   
  
“I’m King Roman’s junior advisor...I may as well get to know you, eh? I believe you have time before dinner.” The man offers his arm, and slowly, as Virgil had practiced with Logan, he takes it.

He feels weird in his skin, like he’ll burst into flames for trying to be someone of so high esteem for any longer. He also feels strangely confident- like- if he forgets that he’s someone else then for a few moments he can pretend that all of this attention is for him and him alone.

Once they exit the throne room they both stop. Virgil looks up at the man beside him in confusion, who in result, grins. “It’s your castle, lead the way. Where do you want to take me?”  
  
Oh but it isn’t. 

Oh but he’s _ hot. _

Oh my god.

The garden. Virgil knows the garden. Gardens are nice. Gardens are impressive.

“Alright, lets walk in the back garden, then.”  
  
“Sounds lovely.”   
  
They walk in silence for a while, Virgil desperately attempting to look like he knows what he’s doing and where he’s going. “So, what’s your name?” 

  
“Ro- bert. Robert. But- uh- You can call me Ro.”

“Well you can call me Vi- I mean- Patton. That is my name and you can use it.” Virgil cringes. What was that? _ You know how to talk to people, idiot. Come on. _

“Yes, indeed.” The man chuckles, patting Virgil’s forearm. “No need to be nervous, Patton. I’m just going to talk to you. Like equals, and friends.”  
  
_ We’re not friends, I don’t know you _. Is Virgil’s first thought, but maybe that’s not how it works in places like this. To bad Logan literally sprinted away, otherwise he’d ask him. 

Not like he’s known Logan for much longer. Are _ they _ friends?

“Alright.”

They finally reach the back gardens, and Virgil is quite proud of himself for getting there. “Here we are, then.” Virgil gestures broadly.  
  
“Beautiful. Do you like flowers?”   
  
Virgil shrugs. “They’re fine.”   
  


“Hmm. Well, I think they’re wonderful.” Ro drops Virgil’s arm and saunters over to a flower bed full of assorted flowers. He looks around for a moment, eyes resting on each flower, before picking one out. He reaches in with his bare hands as Virgil reaches his side, and plucks a blood-red rose. “This one reminds me of you.”  
  
Ro looks at it scrutinizingly before attaching it to Virgil’s jacket. Virgil looks down at it, redness rising in his face. “Really? Most people associate... m-me with- daisies, and sunflowers-”   
  
“No. I don’t think you’re like that at all.”   
  
Ro grabs Virgil again, pulling him along towards a garden path. “You know, you’re a lot different than I thought you would be. From the pictures.”   
  
“You’ve barely known me for a half an hour, sir.” Virgil scoffs. “You know nothing of me.”   
  


“I think I’m pretty good at reading the vibes, Patton.” Ro says matter of factly, glancing sideways at Virgil, who snorts unceremoniously. 

A slow smile spreads upon the advisor’s face. “Sir?”  
  
_ That was one of the things Logan told you _ not _ to do _ . _ Weirdo. Princes don’t snort _.

Virgil promptly snorts again, laughing and using his free hand to cover his mouth. “Sorry, sorry. Reading the vibes? What vibes? You aren’t a _ psychic _ , are you?”   
  
“I’m going to counter with another question- do you believe in star signs?”   
  
Snort. “ _ No _”

“Pity. I think they’re interesting. I’m barely an Aries, but I feel it fits. Passionate, strong...I know what I want. When’s your birthday?”  
  
“July 15th.” Not that it’s ever been celebrated-   
  
Wait no. What’s Patton’s birthday? Fuck. _ He’ll know. He’ll call me out. _

“A cancer, then. I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
“What’s next, Tarot cards?”   
  
“Maybe?”   
  
“Shut up.” Virgil giggles. 

Ro smiles, tilting his head and leading Virgil around to the fruit trees. To be fair, for all Virgil knows, Ro knows this place better than him. 

“But really,” Ro continues “You’re a lot different than I thought you would be.”  
  
“Bad different?”   
  
“No. Not at all. Just very- distinctly.”   
  


“Yeah? Well you’re very thorough for an advisor.” Virgil nudges him.   
  
Ro coughs. “It’s very important! I need to- make sure you two are compatible.”   
  
“I think this is happening either way, buddy.” Virgil sighs.   
  
They sit between an apple tree.   
  


“Do- do you _ want _ to marry the king?”   
  
“Am I allowed to tell you without being beheaded?”   
  
Ro coughs more violently. Virgil cringes. That is definitely not acceptable. “I mean- sorry. I-”   
  
“No.” Ro waves a hand, “No- no don’t be. I want honesty...but no one’s getting beheaded, alright?”   
  
_ That’s debatable. _   
  


“Yeah. Of course. Um. Yes?” What was it that Patton said? “I- for my country. Duty calls, you know? I just- I don’t want to leave either. And-”  
  
“And?” The advisor’s hair glows golden in the setting sun and Virgil wants to touch it. He wants to stare into the man’s blinding blue eyes longer than socially acceptable, and he wants to hold the soft hand on the bench next to him. Virgil opts to scoot closer.   
  
“I don’t know him.” _ I want to know you _ .   
  
“If you did, what then?”   
  
“I’d also want to like him, and him to like me.” _ I want you to like me. _

“Do you think he will?”  
  
“Could anybody?” _ No one ever has. _

“Of course!” The man raises his voice and then coughs again.  
  
“Are you catching cold, sir?” Virgil asks slyly, “ Would you like my jacket?”

Roman coughs louder, and Virgil is satisfied to see a sprinkling of red on the man’s very defined cheekbones. 

  
  
  
  


_ Okay you need to stop like, right now. _

“I’m... I’m quite alright, thank you, Patton. I think it’s about time to be heading to dinner, anyway. Shall we?”  
  
Ro offers his arm and Virgil takes it. 

  
“Do you think he’ll like me?” Virgil asks quietly, “From what you’ve seen?”   
  
“I really think he will.” Ro mutters. “Do you think you’ll like him?”   
  
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?”

As they walk back to the castle, Virgil finally remembers to be anxious.

I guess it's too late for that. 


	13. Chapter 13: Logan, Remus, Patton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood mentions and swear words courtesy of Remus and his gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been about a month since I've updated anything, and that's mostly because my schedule has been busy, but also because writer's block really sucks. This chapter has a lot of perspective shifts, and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I couldn't think of a better way to do this so- uh- here you go!! I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> As always, please kudos and comment to let me know what you think!!
> 
> I missed you guys <3

  
Patton has a plan. It’s not a great plan, and to be honest it definitely won’t work, but he’s gotta  _ try _ , you know? 

Because it looks like no one’s coming to save him. He’s tired, and it’s dark, but it’s about dinner and the redhead will be here soon.

His plan is as follows. He has made a lump on the bed out of blankets, with his crown lay askew on the pillow, as if he’s cowering under the comforter. When he was sleeping before, the woman came and jerked him awake to watch him eat. Assuming she’ll do that again, she’ll open the door and head over to the bed. Patton will be behind the door, and when the door is cracked open, he’ll make sure the door doesn’t close all the way behind her. He will then quietly and quickly slip out and close the door behind her, therefore locking her in. Hopefully.

It’s definitely flawed, but at least it’s something.

………….

Remus is mad. 

  1. The “junior advisor” to the king is clearly just his brother in a shitty disguise, who is subsequently ignoring him....which is _fair_ but it still makes him mad.
  2. Patton’s here, and either not telling the queen why he was gone(which doesn’t make any damn sense), or it’s _not_ Patton… though it definitely _is_ Patton. So the fact that everything is so confusing makes him mad.
  3. The know-it-all is on to him.
  4. This is all going wrong.
  5. He’s going to be put in jail.
  6. He needs a plan B because now that Patton’s here, the wedding is back on.
  7. He’s gonna beat some ass when he figures out who let the twerp-boy out.
  8. He’s tired of this list.

Remus is  _ mad _ .   
  


……..

Logan stays many many paces behind the advisor, no longer underestimating him. Something is weird is going on.    
  


He feels somewhat bad for throwing Virgil to the wolves moments after he specifically told him he wouldn’t, but this is important and necessary and Logan is confident that Virgil  _ can _ do it. 

That isn’t the problem.

  
Pulling this off is the problem. 

Logan’s never been very stealthy, sneaking Virgil into the castle being the only exception, so he’s worried that Remus will see him. He’s monitoring his footfalls and listening hard to Remus’ so he can follow while still being out of sight. 

It’s hard. Too bad. Patton at one point wanted to sneak away and quote "live with the ninjas". 

Finally they arrive outside. Remus presumably calls for his horse and Logan can’t afford to wait so he goes and retrieves his own himself, running into the servant boy coming back on the way there. 

Logan nods at him, and frightened looking, he nods back.

Logan kicks after Remus. They journey through the city and towards the east forest.

When they cross the threshold, Logan’s stomach turns. 

……….

Frick noodles.

  
This is it. 

Patton sees the doorknob jingle and he crouches deeper, trembling. This is it. The redhead opens the door roughly, and it slams into Patton who holds back a yelp. “Wakey wakey, royal shit.” she growls, heading towards the bed. Patton stops the door and scurries out, slamming the door behind him, hard. He locks it manually with a deadbolt just in time for her to slam against it, screaming at him. Dizzy and upset, Patton sits down, taking all the abuse from the woman on the other side of the door. Expletives stream in and out of his ears without him really registering it. 

Dang, he feels horrible. 

At least he left her with food?   
  
“You little  _ bastard. _ Open the door! I’m gonna starve in here! He won’t- Ugh!” Slam. “Let me out!” Slam. “You little shit!” Slam. “I’m gonna kill you!” Slam. “If the boss doesn’t kill you first!” Slam.  **Slam ** **SLAM.**

“I’m sorry, miss.” Patton calls back to her, standing shakily and looking around.   
  
“No you aren’t.” She mutters, apparently kicking the door once more, weakly.

It’s a small cabin, with another unlit fireplace, and a worn looking couch situated in front of a coffee table with an in progress jigsaw puzzle strewn over it. The door doesn’t seem locked. There’s an open bag of chips on the counter of the small “kitchen”. Patton takes them. There’s no identifying marks of who owns the cabin, or of the boss that Redhead mentioned. Patton thinks it’s about time to head out.

He opens the front door, and he’s assaulted with the smell of pine. He’s in the east forest. 

Oh, god. 

He’s only been here once, on a hunting trip with his father (may he rest in peace), on which Patton cried when his dad shot a turkey and they never went hunting together again. 

Though now he’d give anything to have him back. Even the life of a turkey.

  
It’s fine.    
  


He looks around.

There’s a horse there, who looks more like a mule than anything, but it will have to do. Patton has never been good at horse-back riding, since he didn’t really  _ need _ to, yet Logan’s taken him out a few times for leisure- it was uncomfortable and according to his mother “unbecoming”.   
  
The skills would have been useful now, however. He approaches the thing, and it looks at him. Acting on instinct, he sticks out his hand. It looks at him. 

“Can I touch you?”   
  
It continues to look at him.

  
“Okay.” Patton mutters, reaching out to touch its nose. It leans into the touch. “Nice. Great. Can I ride you?”   
  
Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t answer.   
  
“Okay.”

With a little difficulty, Patton makes his way into the saddle. The horse is very patient and it goes when Patton tells him to. He urges it to go faster. 

He needs to get out of here. 

…………….   
  


Remus slams the door open, looking around. The door to the runt’s room is still bolted shut. Remus breathes out.

“Hilda?”   
  
“Boss?”   
  
The voice comes from inside the room.

  
“You’re kidding.”   
  
“‘Fraid not sir. Can you- let me out?”   
  
Remus seethes.

  1. His chips are gone. The little bastard stole his chips. 

_ Crunch _ .   
  
Remus’ head whips around, and behind him he sees the nerd, who freezes- his eyes comedically wide paired with his thick glasses.

“What do we have here?”   
  
Logan straightens up, apparently trying to hide the shakiness in his hands and the tremor in his voice, but failing. “Where’s Patton?”   
  
“Oh, you mean your little boy-toy? Hmm. I think I saw him back at the castle, have you checked there?” Remus sneers, stalking closer and taking delight in the little panicked step back that Logan takes.

“He’s not-” The boy flushes, biting his lip “ I mean- You and I both know that isn’t the Prince, sir. All you have to do is tell me where he is and we won’t have any trouble.”

That isn’t- so- who is the boy marrying the King? If that isn’t Patton then  _ where  _ is he? Remus needs to find him, or make a new plan- and fast.    
  
“Oh, okay. I wouldn’t want any trouble, I’ll tell you.” Remus picks at his fingernails, and Logan makes a noise.   
  
“You will?”   
  
“Sure.” Logan smiles and starts to speak but-  _ Crack! _ _   
_ __   
Remus feels the glasses dig into Logan’s nose like a hot knife cutting butter, and subsequently snap in half. He feels the crunching of cartilage and the wonderful feeling of breaking a nose. 

He crumples to the ground, bleeding out of his left nostril, and shielding his face. Remus kicks the body one more time out of spite, and calls Hilda to dispose of him. He won’t be meddling any longer.

Now for plan B.


	14. Chapter 14: Patton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mild violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy 
> 
> Oh my gosh it's been so long! I've missed you guys! Hopefully this chapter is a good one to break the hiatus :) No promises on when but the next chapter is gonna be pure Prinxiety fluff! ( I know what you're all here for haha)
> 
> As always, leave a comment and kudos to let me know what you think! They make my dav like crazy :))

“Ha. If  _ you’re _ the prince, then I’m the king.”

“But I  _ am _ the prince!” Patton whines frustratedly, shivering. “Norman, you  _ know  _ me.”

Norman shakes his head, his hand resting pointedly on the sword hanging from his left hip. “The  _ prince _ is currently having dinner with his mother and their guests in the dining room. Please move along.”

The horse paces, restless, and Patton pulls on the harness to keep it facing forward. Patton wants to cry. What’s going on??  _ What _ prince? How could he be in there if he’s out here?   
  
God, Patton just wants his own room back, and his own bed and his mother and Logan. That’s all he wants! Hell, at this point he’d even marry that Roman guy. All this weirdness hurts his head.

Patton draws himself to his ‘princely height’, the best he can on the back of a horse and in a slept-in suit. “I, Prince Patton, demand you let me in to see my mother.”   
  


“I said move along! Now!” Norman yells, spooking both the horse and the bewildered boy on top of it. Norman’s voice lowers to a growl as he draws his sword. “Or I’ll slice that pretty head off of your shoulders.”

“But where can I go?” Patton cries desperately. Norman answers by starting to count down from - “Five-”

“Wait- let me prove to you it’s me! I- ask me something only I would know!”

“Four.”

  
  
“Oh, come on. Really?” Patton raises his voice over some alarmingly close-sounding thunder.

“Three-”   
  


“Whatever.” Patton mumbles, struggling to turn the horse away. He’s not getting anywhere with this guy.

“Two!”

Not particularly keen to find out what happens at one, Patton haphazardly kicks the horse a little too hard and they barrel back into town.

And now more than ever does Patton wish he knew his kingdom more. It’s so lively and sprawling, sparkling with night life. Bars are overflowing with laughter and music and light, quaint little storefronts catch gazes with dozens of glittery nothings, couples start to jog to the nearest shelter to escape the rain- so many people around but not a single friendly face.

Except-   
  
A dull spark of something rushes through Patton’s tired brain. “Virgil.” 

  
That’s it.   
  
That’s all that he has left. Logan isn’t coming, nor his mother. They’ve already found another, faux Patton. And they seem happy with whoever that is so maybe Patton’s destined to be a tailor instead.

Well hopefully not, but maybe Virgil can somehow help him. 

Patton skids to a stop at a stable near a bar. Timidly, Patton slides off of the side of the horse, stumbling a little when his feet touch the ground. The horse looks at him and Patton looks at the horse.    
  
“Thanks, buddy.”    
  
The horse doesn’t answer. Patton leads him to a stall, makes sure he has food and water, and heads over to the bar to ask for directions.   
  
But he doesn’t get far.

Wiping the mist off of his glasses, Patton opens the door and comes face to face with an imposing man with a would-be-comforting smile, straightening his sharp suit coat on his way out into the chill. He gives Patton a once over, and then looks him up and down again, slower, as if he’s x-raying him with those piercing green eyes.

“Hello.” Patton ventures nervously, as the man isn’t letting him pass.

The man clicks his tongue and narrows his eyes in response. “What are you  _ doing _ here?”   
  
“I’m sorry?” Patton replies, attempting to draw himself up so he’s almost as tall as the other. “I don’t think I know you.”   
  
“Very funny, Virgil. Hilarious. I’m laughing.” The man, quick as a viper, grabs Patton’s wrist. “We’re going home.”   
  
“Get  _ off _ of me!” Patton’s vision starts going dark. This  _ isn’t _ happening again. No more dark rooms. Patton claws at the hand, but this man is stronger than him. Patton’s painfully weak- he can’t even make the hand budge.“Just let me go, please I want to go home. Please please-”

“Shut up.” The man hisses dangerously, dragging a limp Patton behind him. “Move your legs boy, and stop screaming. You know why you have to go back...huh? Stop it, people are  _ looking _ .”

Patton can’t see. Can’t hear, can’t move. He can only feel the isolated sensation of a living cuff around his wrist. Patton pulls away desperately.

“Let me go! Please!”   
  
The man stops, turns, and backhands Patton across the face.    
  
_ Smack _ .

Patton falls to the ground, scraping his shoulder against the gravel. It came so fast he didn't see it coming...and no one has ever- hit him before. He feels guilty, like he should be renouncing something he's done wrong. With the loss of anything else to do, h e gasps loudly, grasping his wrist and scrambling backwards away from the shadow. Just when he, in some delusional corner of his mind, thought that he had gotten away-the man just laughs darkly and grabs him again.   
  
“Are you done?”   
  
Patton finds himself mute. The man takes his silence as submission and purrs. “Good.”

It feels like they walk in silence for hours before the man speaks again. “I don’t know what you were thinking, leaving like that.”   
  
“I don’t know who you are.” Patton spits, his whole body aching.

“Stop lying, ungrateful whore! You think changing your hair is going to make me think you’re a completely different person, Virgil?”   
  
Patton whimpers. “I’m  _ not _ Virgil!”   
  


“Yeah, sure you ain’t.” The man drawls, letting go of Patton briefly to open a back door. “Remy? Virgil’s back. Watch him, won’t you?”   
  
It’s warm inside and that’s nice, but everything hurts and Patton feels like his dignity has been completely stripped away. The man shoves him forward, causing him to stumble and fall down onto the floor. “This little stunt just added another year to your sentence. Maybe  _ that _ will stop you from running away again.”   
  
And then he was gone. That must have been Mr. Dee, and this must be his shop. Patton starts to sit up. And they if all think that he’s Virgil…   
  
Then where’s Virgil?

The boy named Remy that Patton had seen earlier with Virgil scuttles forward and then back again like a nervous crab.

“Hello?”   
  
“Are you the prince??” The boy squeaks, scurrying back towards him to kneel at Patton’s level. “Like, the real prince? God, you’re so pretty-”   
  
“I- yes.”Patton rubs his injured shoulder, as if  _ that _ would relieve the pounding pain in his head. Instead of questioning the boy as to 'how did you know?' he asks “Where’s Virgil?”   
  


“Oh. You don’t know? Did your friend not find you yet?”   
  
Patton lurches towards the kid on a sudden second wind, which makes Remy jump backwards about two feet. “Logan? Was he looking for me?”   
  
“Yeah! I- think that was his name- he came in asking for Virgil and- he left with him?? They were talking about him being a stand in-”   
  
“So it’s him! In the castle now!” Patton tries to stand up and then falls back again. “Dangit.”

Remy tilts his head in concern. “Do you want ice? That looks bad.”

He reaches out to touch Patton’s face but the prince flinches backward.    
  
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Uh-”   
  
“Yes please, for the ice.” Patton saves Remy from stuttering for too long, and slowly this time, makes his way to his feet. He glances around the drab room. The darkness is only lit by individual small lanterns on the multiple small work desks,(at which young men and women are keeping their heads down very pointedly), and a roaring fireplace with a mantel devoid of any trinkets.

There are racks upon racks of fabric alongside large sewing machines. The room is buzzing with energy and concentration- and unasked questions attempting to pierce the surface. The feeling gets under Patton’s skin, feeding the rising desperation in his chest.

_ Get out I need to get out I need to go home I need to find Logan. _

After a while of Patton trying to calm his breaths with exercises Logan taught him, Remy stumbles back to him with a scrap piece of cloth wrapped around a chunk of ice chipped from an ice box.

  
“Thanks.” Patton holds it against his eye, which he didn’t realize that was hurting that much until it started feeling better. “Agh.”   
  
“Are you okay sir? I- I would try to talk to him but-” Remy glances quickly over his shoulder.   
  
“No.” Patton flinches at the memory of sharp knuckles colliding with his eye. “I get it...but you need to help me get out of here.”   
  
Remy breathes in through his nose, looks closely at Patton, and then sighs. “I- okay. What do you need?”   



	15. Chapter 15: Virgil and Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm late. Today has been very crazy and I needed some sort of release.
> 
> Freaking COVID-19 can't take away my writing, even if it's taking away everything else.
> 
> I love you guys, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)) leave a kudos and a comment if you like it <3

The next day Virgil is woken up by an excessive amount of sunlight. Virgil squints at the window and groans, turning and smothering himself with one of his pillows to block out the glare.   
  
“Your majesty?”   
  
Virgil bolts up, blearily blinking at the intruder. It’s a woman with red hair, a maid, probably. Virgil almost laughs. Of course this isn’t his bed, he doesn’t have more than one pillow at home. Patton has maybe 6.

Virgil has half a mind to check his wig, because he slept on it and it might have slipped, but that’s fucking suspicious so he opts instead to just stare at her like a weirdo.

“Are you alright?” She scrunches up her nose. “I was just about to ask if you wanted breakfast? Junior Advisor Logan arranged for you to be woken at 7 sharp, to be ready for your meeting with the king.”   
  
“Ummm. Sure. Yeah. I’m...peachy.” Virgil cringes immediately.

The maid tilts her head to the side.“...excellent, my prince. I’ll draw your bath while I have one of the kitchen staff bring you your-”   
  
But Virgil wasn’t listening...she mentioned Logan! A familiar face would be a godsend right about now. 

  
“Wait- uh… Is Logan  _ here _ ?”   
  
She gives him an odd look. “No sir.”   
  
“Okay. Um. Cool.” He rubs his elbow. Her eyes track his hands so he just lets them fall into his lap. Her skeptical eyes rise back to his face. 

...

Is she going to leave? “Um. That will be all?”   
  
Pulling a face, she nods slowly and turns on her heel to retreat to the bathroom. 

“Great fucking job.” Virgil mutters to himself. To be fair, he was ripped out of sleep and expected to automatically assume a role. That’s next-level method acting that he has not gone to school for. But, a bath?   
  
A breakfast in bed?   
  
He doesn’t know if he even  _ wants _ these things, but they’re being thrust on him as if they’re as normal as breathing and blinking. 

They are though, for Patton. God, wherever Logan is, hopefully Patton is with him. Though an abundance of food sounds amazing, his every move being micromanaged like this doesn’t. Ideally, Patton wouldn’t have to marry this Roman dude, and he could be home safe and sound and love who he wants...but it doesn’t seem like any of the above are going to happen. Patton can’t marry Roman if he’s dead.

  
  
  
  


Wow. He can’t _can’t_ **_can’t _**think about that. 

Then he’d really be- stuck...wouldn’t he? Forever. And definitely eventually found out and sentenced to death.

Virgil shakes his head, hard, just as the door opens soundlessly to let in his breakfast train.

It is  _ a  _ fucking  _ lot _ . Three different types of juice in pristine glasses, eggs, toast, bacon, ham, waffles, syrup- everything. A continental breakfast wheeled to his side.

He picks up a fork. The three woman who had brought the food in stare at him. He tilts his head at them and they mirror his movements.

  
“Did you need anything?” Virgil asks uncomfortably, feeling weird at the idea of strangers watching him eat.  _ Anyone _ watching him eat. He’s probably a gross eater. He wouldn’t really know. 

They all look at each other. “Um.”   
  
Another chimes in. “We’re supposed to watch you, sir.”   
  
“Yes, the queen’s afraid that-”   
  
“You’ll run away again-”   
  
“Not that we think you will, sir.”   
  
“No, of course not.”   
  
Virgil shrinks a little bit. “I promise I won’t.”

The middle one steps forward. “Alright sir. We’ll be right outside. You can ring for us if you need to.”   
  
Virgil smiles. “Thank you.”   
  
“Of course.”   
  


Virgil can’t help but eat sloppily in a rush to put everything in his stomach, but he hits a wall halfway through. He’s not used to eating more than maybe a small meal, a slice of bread, or maybe an apple.    
  
He suddenly feels the urge to throw up. Sitting back, he groans. 

“Sir.”   
  
“Ah!” He snaps his head to the side, and then at the sight of a flash of red hair, he sighs. “You have to stop doing that.”   
  
She looks at the carnage left behind by Virgil’s hungry eyes and small stomach.

  
“You aren’t Patton, sir. Are you?”   
  
A pang of panic rushes through Virgil’s chest, and he struggles to keep his breath under control. He feels every heartbeat like a throwing dart to the chest. 

Somehow he manages a- “Of course I am.”   
  
She takes three steps forward, her strides so long that she becomes threateningly close. “What’s my name?”   
  
Virgil’s heart may have stopped. He swings his legs over the side of the bed to face her, sitting against the headboard makes him feel vulnerable. 

“If you were Patton, sir, you would know. I raised him like my son.” She lets those words hang there, in the big empty room. 

“Ma’am...I’m so sorry.” Virgil mutters, unable to look the woman in the eyes and lie. “I’m not- I’m not the prince.”   
  


She rushes forward at a frightening speed, grasping him by the front of his nightshirt and dragging him to a standing position. He grabs her forearms instinctively to push her off, but her grip is iron. “ _ What _ have you done with him?”   
  
……...

Roman is  _ nervous _ .

Before he met his betrothed, he was hardly nervous at all- but now he’s met Patton, and now he knows that he  _ really  _ likes him.   
  
He was led to believe him to be a bundle of sweetness and complacency, no sharp edges, all sunshine and giggles. A perfect person to get along with and marry, or whatever. 

The Patton he met was not like that at all. He was quick and self assured, nothing got past him, and everything he said was a surprise; a rarity in royals.

Many a prince and princess he’s talked to, and none of them had snorted when they laughed.

Another thing that makes him nervous is the fact that his murderous brother is here for some reason. 

  
Remus is dangerous, a fact that Roman has finally decided on after he’d stumbled upon his brother’s murder journals. Plural.

  
He’d found multiple journals detailing different plans of killing him, their parents, his tutor, himself.

And Roman’s the one who got him kicked out...So he might wake up dead tomorrow, but Roman really doubts it. 

Remus is dangerous, but Remus is also stupid. 

You know, it’s possible he’s better now. Roman reasons with himself, that he got some help.    
  
But Roman’s wary nonetheless.

He’s in his favorite suit, he’s standing up straight, and he’s ready to talk to Patton again- as himself this time. Hopefully he doesn’t take it too bad. Technically, he’s not allowed to. 

But Patton breaks the rules, and Roman finds that incredibly attractive. Not that he’d ever say that out loud, or even in ink, but yesterday on that fairy tale bench under the cherry blossom tree Roman had wanted to kiss the smaller man senseless. Call Roman what you will, but he’s always been a romantic. 

Now he’s waiting, the queen at his side, to be presented to his fiancee formally. He wore a light suit yesterday, a plain black with silver trim. It was horrid. Roman loves looking the part, extravagant and brightly colored with plenty of lace and or frills in a deep royal red. 

  
Oh, he really hopes Patton won’t take it badly. He really likes him.

The queen is quite talkative, really. Roman can tell that she really loves her son, though she’s hella  _ hella _ spacey. She’s told him the same, admittedly cute, story from Patton's childhood three times now. She’s earnest... but no doubt her husband’s murder made her sick in the head. He feels bad, stealing Patton away and whisking him off back to his own home- but he needs a union and a co-king and now his eyes and heart are set on Patton. He's a somewhat selfish romantic. 

  
The fanfare plays and the queen nudges Roman’s shoulder like he’s an old friend. “Are you ready?”   
  
Roman straightens up, smiling. “Of course I am.”

The door opens and Roman sees Patton's smiling face, and he sets his anxiety aside. Roman knows he'll be okay. 

Everything's going right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOrry it's pretty short :() And also didn't make it to the fluff. Sorry. I'll get there. 
> 
> I promise :D
> 
> Love ya guys :))


	16. Chapter 16: Virgil and Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol okay so I haven't been doing well but who has? Anyway I know taking a 6 month break makes you irrelevant but I'm back so hi :)))
> 
> I'll try not to take another 6 month break after this.

Virgil is shaken. The woman interrogated him until he had no energy left in him, which isn’t ideal since he has a ‘date’ today. A formal meeting? He hopes that somehow he’ll see that advisor again--

But that’s not- that’s not important. 

The woman’s name is Hilda and apparently since Patton was small he had her to take care of him; since his parents were the king and queen, child-rearing wasn’t exactly high on their priority list.

She let him down and started getting him ready, but she seemed to still be upset at him because when he asked any questions about what he should do, or about Patton as her answers were cryptic at best. 

He feels as if he looks a little nicer than he did yesterday. Both because he took a bath(a really really fancy good smelling one) and because he’s tried to adjust his attitude. When he looks in the mirror he imagines it to be a window with Patton on the other side, smiling at him, reaching out a hand to touch his own. He can lock himself into that demeanor and pretend that all he’s doing is looking through the window and watching Patton do what he does. Smile, charm, not be overly sarcastic- um- 

Yeah. 

Now he’s being dragged roughly by the arm into place. She hisses lowly- “You’re being presented, to the King, okay? You have to be a bit more refined than you have been.”

“I- I  _ know  _ that."

She softens a bit, releases his arm and dusts off his shoulders. “I apologize, I’m just- worried about the Prince, sir.”   
  
“It’s okay, I am too. I’m also worried about Logan.” Virgil adds, who was annoyed at first that he left like that, has become more and more worried the more hours pass. 

“Who?” She asks absently, and Virgil tilts his head. 

“Um.”   
  
“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course. The advisor.” She turns on her heel and pushes him forward. Two guards immediately rush to flank him. “Have fun, Patton.”   
  
Fun. Sure. This will be  _ fun _ .

  
Virgil manages to keep his hands down at his side, not playing with his wig or each other. He hears a fanfare (a fucking  _ fanfare _ ), and the double doors open grandly. The guards depart at his crossing of the threshold to fall into place on either side of the door. He feels suddenly exposed. 

  
“Presenting the beloved Prince Patton of Hilltop Kingdom!”

Virgil evens his strides, squinting up at the king’s lumpy silhouette, backlit by the massive window. Is he wearing a  _ carpet _ ? Is he old and fat and ugly?   
  
Oh god what if he’s old and fat and ugly?!?

Not that it matters, but for  _ Patton’s _ sake at least--

He still hasn’t caught a glimpse of his face when he kneels at the king's feet. There's silence.

Virgil wonders if he'd done something wrong, but suddenly h e hears a long and bubbly laugh from above and Virgil prickles in annoyance. 

  
  
“What’s so funny?” Virgil snaps before he can get a hold of his bearings. He  _ doesn’t  _ like getting laughed at. 

His heart knows that he messed up before his brain does. It drops into his stomach, causing his anxiety to take form in a swarm of spiders crawling into his lungs and making it hard to breathe.    


  
“Hey, Patton.” The voice says, and suddenly the mass of fabric is crouching to be level with Virgil, “I brought the tarot cards.”

  
  
“What-I- he’s-  _ you?! _ ” Virgil lowers his voice, his heart nearly stopping. “‘The hell are you wearing?”   
  


The laugh comes again, and Ro holds out his hand for Virgil to grab. He helps him to his feet. Virgil’s heart leaps, his head light, at the tender contact of their hands. Ro.

Ro-man. 

Of course.    
  
King Roman.

** _King_ ** _ Roman _ .

Any chance Virgil had with this guy is now figuratively out the window. It’s idiotic that he’d dared to dream at all...he’s just so- annoyingly pretty!   
  
Roman doesn’t drop Virgil’s hand when they both straighten up and Virgil can’t help but smile. He tilts his head at the Queen, as to get further instructions. 

Roman notices Virgil’s ‘efforts’ and clears his throat. The queen snaps out of a sort of daze before she laughs amicably, the effect lessened slightly by her vacant stare. “You two should get to know each other! Go on!”

Virgil’s lung spiders come back. He has no other tricks than ‘Hey let's look at the back garden! Hahaha flowers! Yay!’

And he’s also kind of mad that this asshole lied to him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Roman nods to her respectfully. “Shall we, Patton?”

He offers his arm and Virgil slides his fingers out of Roman’s and up to the crook of his elbow, and they start walking. Roman seems to know where he’s going, so Virgil doesn’t speak. Roman sighs loudly after a few minutes of silence. 

  
  
“I’m sorry.”

  
  
“Pardon?”

  
  
“I’m sorry that I lied to you, about not being the king.” Roman elaborates, his nose scrunching. “I-I just wanted to get to know you, the  _ real _ you without all of the formalities. You understand, right?”   


  
Virgil shrugs, peeking at Roman out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  
  
Roman makes a wounded noise, turning down a hallway that Virgil has literally never seen before. 

  
Cool. 

Virgil needs to be more like Patton. He has to stop acting like  _ Virgil _ would in this situation. He isn’t Virgil anymore. At least, not for a while. 

“But hey-” Virgil says slyly, tugging on Roman’s arm in what he hopes is a playful way. “Show me a good time and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

Roman chuckles, tugging back and nearly throwing Virgil off balance. “You’re supposed to be the one charming  _ me _ , you’re the host! And I  _ think _ I heard you insult my outfit in the throne room? I’ll have to take off points for that.”

  
  
“We’re even then.” Virgil reasons. “We’ll treat each other right from now on.”

“No more lies.”

  
  
Virgil nods despite the irony. “I won’t stop insulting you, though. There is such a thing as too many frills.”

“What?  _ Never _ !”

  
  
And Virgil thinks he would know, the design is just...tasteless. They’re  _ piled on _ like a tiered wedding cake, and Virgil can’t imagine that he’s comfortable under all that weight. Virgil mindlessly plays with the loose fabric at his escort's wrist. 

“So do you  _ like _ the real me, Your Highness?” Virgil asks suddenly, turning to face the king so he can track his expression. Virgil is delighted to see his cheeks tinged pink. 

“I do.” He says earnestly, “I do, very much.”

“Ha. Well...maybe wait to make that judgement until later.”

  
  
“I don’t think I have to, sir.” He grins, “But whatever makes you happy.”

They come to a stop in front of two glass doors- that showcase the innards of the room with pride. Shelves and shelves of heavy-bound books arranged in a circle, a piano near the window, a fireplace, armchairs. Heaven.

More specifically, a library. It leaves Virgil somewhat breathless, but he recovers quickly.“I didn’t take you for much of a reader.”

  
  
“Your mother said that this was a good place to spend time.” He flashes his (very white and very straight) teeth at Virgil before pulling the door open. “After you.”

  
  
“Oh, why thank you.” Virgil bites back sarcastically. “My king.”

  
  
“Oh stop.” He kicks at Virgil’s ankle as he passes. “Why don’t you sit down over at that table. I have something I want to show you.”

Virgil pulls out a chair at the center of the room. The walls are made of books, too many books to even read in a lifetime. Most civilians never learn how to read or write. Luckily, before they went away, Virgil’s parents were really vigilant in getting Virgil reading at a young age. He attributes his ability to write songs the way he does entirely to them, so every song he sings is a tribute, regardless of its topic.

Roman slides across from him and he reaches into his (shawl? He looked far better in a simple suit.) and pulls out a wooden rectangular box.

“You didn’t-”   
  
“I did.” He grins, sliding the thing open to reveal a deck of cards. Virgil snorts, and Roman’s smile spreads wider across his face. “May I do a reading on you?”

  
  
“Knock yourself out.” Virgil lounges, watching Roman’s nimble fingers shuffle the deck. He then draws three, places them face down in the center of the table. 

“You know, my mom says that her great aunt was a witch.”

  
  
“Huh.” Virgil smiles begrudgingly, “That must give you credibility, huh?”

“Oh, definitely.” He flips the first one over. “Okay so this is the Justice card, this basically means that you’ve been treated badly in the past but you’re going to get your comeuppance. The lovers, means you’ll find someone to be your support system- and you’ll be happy with them, possibly a replacement to the toxic person that was in your life before. And this- eesh-”

  
  
“What?”   
  
Roman looks down on it grimly, “It’s the hanged man. It means you’ll make a sacrifice for someone else that may or may not have horrible consequences.”

  
  
Virgil’s chest pangs, but he immediately scolds himself for it. All of this psychic stuff is and always has been bullshit. 

“Oh no, I tremble in my boots. The mighty seer has predicted my downfall.” Virgil covers his moment of panic with dry sarcasm, and Roman shrugs. 

  
  
“The cards never lie...but I did make most of that up.”

  
  
“And there we go.” Virgil grins, “Thanks anyway.”

  
  
The rest of the day goes by in what feels like seconds. Roman played at the piano while Virgil sang along with him (Roman pretended to swoon, which was pretty funny), they went outside to see the horses (but not ride them because Virgil hasn’t ever before and doesn’t want to look utterly  _ stupid _ ), walked around in the  _ front _ gardens, and finally, found a passage to the roof.

“Come on, it’s fine.”

  
  
“I really really don’t like heights--” Roman sings nervously from the bottom of the ladder. “Like at all-”

  
  
“You’ll miss it, come on!” Virgil climbs a few more rungs, his cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. “Don’t be such a baby. You’re supposed to be a leader of a nation.”

  
  
“Yeah, where’s the respect?” Roman grunts, and then louder, just to ensure that Virgil heard him- “I demand respect!!”

  
  
“Only if you face your fears-” Virgil makes the final heave, and finds himself on a flat section of roof between the two highest towers. Being so high up makes Virgil feel tall, in power over the tiny humans going about their lives. It makes him feel like he was  _ never _ one of those miniscule ants in the hive, bustling along their predestined paths. That he’s somehow  _ more important _ .

It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?

  
  
“You’re literally missing it, Roman-” He calls down the hole. “There’s a railing, it’s okay.”

  
  
The crest of Roman’s head appears in the trapdoor’s opening, and then two nervous eyes. He catches a glimpse of the orange skies and peeks out a little more. “Woah-”

  
  
“We have a great view, the trees don’t block it at all.” Virgil murmurs, and then louder- “Come and sit with me, Chickenshit.”

He laughs that burst of a laugh that he does when Virgil’s surprised him, a sound that Virgil (not so) secretly  _ loves _ . He crawls over to where Virgil is standing, cross legged safely behind the rail that Virgil is currently leaning over. Roman grabs his pant leg, tugging on it. 

  
“Please don’t fall.” 

And that’s so impossibly sweet that Virgil takes a resultant step back, plopping down next to the king and gazing up at the sky instead of down at his subjects. 

“Thank you.” Roman breathes out, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I hate heights.”

  
  
“But isn’t it beautiful, though? The sunset?” Virgil gestures at the gradient clouds, shaded with purple, contrasting against the black mountains in the distance. Virgil had never been able to see it span the whole sky, only glimpses of color peeking through the trees or behind the tall oppressive buildings that line every street in town. This is incredible. It would be even more so if those damn spiders weren’t always crawling over his heart.    


  
But even so, they’re less frantic, up here, on the roof, with Roman.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Roman says lowly, placing his hand on Virgil’s ankle. “But because you’re here, it’s the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”

Virgil flinches. “No.”

  
  
“What?” Roman takes his hand back and Virgil regrets saying it, though he doesn’t remember giving his mouth permission to say it in the first place.   


  
“I mean-” Vigil hits his thigh, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He sighs, leaning back on his palms. “I’m very glad we had this day together.”

  
  
“I-” Virgil pauses, takes a shuddering breath. He’s suddenly shaken, for some reason. “Me too.”

  
  
“I’ve never really met a royal like you before, Patton.” Roman muses to the sky, “You’re unlike  _ anyone _ I’ve ever met.”

  
  
“Yeah?” Virgil inhales for four, holds it for seven, exhales for eight. “Im not anything special.”

  
  
“On the contrary,” Roman grins, “You’re  _ incredibly  _ special. I was so worried that we wouldn’t get along, but now I know that you’re really-”

  
  
He searches for a word. Virgil’s mind immediately fills the blanks. Boring, deceitful, poor, ugly, dirty, useless.

But logically, Virgil knows that Roman appears to be smitten. He finally plucks something out of the air (physically), flourishing dramatically. 

“Enigmatic.”

  
  
Virgil doesn’t know if that’s a compliment or not, so he just nods.

“Funny, and charming, I guess...but mysterious too.” He shrugs, “Everything I could have wanted.”

  
  
“Well I’m happy for you, then.” Virgil murmurs. Roman looks somewhat hurt.

  
  
“It’s a compliment.”   


  
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Virgil hugs his knees, pressing his lips to the soft soft fabric there.

“I’m just trying to say that I really like you.” Roman continues as if there were no detour at all. “But-- I’ve decided to ask you something. Before anything goes forward.”

Virgil perks up slightly. “What?”

  
  
“Like I said, I like you. But-- do you like me?”

  
  
“Um.” 

  
  
Virgil feels torn. Yes. A million times yes. If this were any normal circumstance he’d say it without hesitation. (Which is strange unto itself. Virgil doesn’t do things like this. This--feeling all this so  _ quickly _ , but without a doubt he’s feeling it and he can’t ignore it.)

  
For a moment, he imagines that they’d snuck to the top of the community center at the heart of the city, and that they’re just two boys, not a king and an imposter. Virgil is sneaking out after work, and Roman’s just got off from his delivery job and they bring a picnic to eat while the sunsets, and hot chocolate to drink under the stars when it’s disappeared. 

  
  
For a moment he pretends that he has a future with him.

And then he lets it go. 

He will say yes, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, not because he wants to. This is for Patton, not him. 

And helping Patton will set him free. 

“Of course I do.”

  
  
Roman beams, “Really?” and then he backtracks “You don’t just have to say that. I- What I was doing was offering you a choice-”

  
  
“No. I want to marry you.” Virgil grabs Roman’s hand. “I do. I want- That’s what I want.”

  
  
Roman tugs Virgil closer, so instead of sitting at his side he’s closer to falling into his lap. 

  
  
Oh god. Oh  _ god _ no.

Virgil can’t do this. 

“Patton,” Roman murmurs, smiling playfully, “We’re getting married.”

  
  
“-yeah-”Virgil mutters, “We are. I-”

  
  
And Roman doesn’t kiss him.

Virgil kisses  _ Roman _ .

He didn’t mean to. He didn’t even  _ think  _ about it. But...a beautiful boy has a fleeting crush on him that wouldn’t ever be plausible if he actually knew who he was- and it’s getting closer and closer to Virgil either just becoming Patton or going to  _ Jail _ , and this is his first kiss and  _ wow _ .

It’s not much of anything, really. A brush of lips, but it makes Virgil fall back onto his heels in wonder. Roman giggles and makes to pull him back, slips a hand around his waist, another up the back of his neck and into his-

Virgil slaps Roman’s hand away. 

He can’t let him- find out. Not like this, not now. He shimmies back on his knees. 

  
  
“I-” Roman falters, his smile dropping. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

  
  
“Roman, listen.” Virgil says, urgently- “I’m not- who you think I am.”

  
  
“Huh?” He looks sort of dumb like this, his eyes glistening as if he were about to cry, hands still outstretched as if cradling a ghost in a loose embrace. 

  
  
“I- just wanted to tell you that now. You can’t really-do anything about it right now, but- I did tell you.”

  
  
He looks really confused, and Virgil doesn’t know how to make it better. 

  
  
“I-you-”

  
  
“Are you afraid that I’ll get tired of you?” Roman offers lightly, reaching out and trailing his fingertips across his cheeks “I know this went a bit- fast, but I think I’m good at reading the signs.”

  
  
“The vibes?” Virgil whispers, leaning into the touch, 

  
  
“I just-” Roman attempts. “I have a feeling that we might be meant to be. We made a connection, right? And- we can take it as slow as you’d like it, my prince...Don’t worry. I’m not the type to lose interest quickly.”

Virgil sighs. Roman averted his crisis without even noticing it. 

  
  
“Fine.” Virgil mutters, pushing Roman onto his back with a shove. Roman lets out a sharp ‘hff’ of surprise, and then another laugh. As Virgil finds a pillow in the kings chest so the two of them can watch the darkening sky, the imposter mumbles -”But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and/or a kudos if you liked it!
> 
> It literally makes my day, hell, my week when someone comments :) love you all, stay safe, wear your mask.


	17. Chapter 17: Hilda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I got a record player today and I'm super pumped, also yesterday someone stole my phone which was stressful. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter! I know it's kinda different than the rest but it's important, and kind of a bridge I guess. Leave a comment and a kudos as always!

Hilda lifts her skirts, tiptoeing down the grand staircase so fast that if she'd trip, she'd surely surf down them on her stomach.

That's preferable to being late.

Down the staircase and to the left, down the long hallway, she starts running, the clack of her flats echoing in the high ceilinged corridor. She slides to a stop in front of the somewhat nondescript door (in comparison to all of the grand double doors throughout the palace. Remus' office.

She steels herself before opening the door, slows her breaths and makes her face more neutral. Okay.

She pushes it open, and there he is, pacing and nearly tearing his hair out. He has his crazy eyes on. She wants to back out, run away, leave this all behind her forever-

But she can't.

"Boss?"

"You!" He stops, bounding over to her and grabbing her by the collar. His eyes are wide and frantic, and his hands are shaking. "What did the imposter tell you?!"

She tries to pull away but he just tightens his grip, lifting her slightly and stealing her breath for a few seconds before letting her down. "I- he- he's the tailor! From Mr.Dee's? The Prince's advisor got him to dress up like Patton while- he went to look for him? But-"

"We disposed of Logan." Remus muses, a sick smile twisting his face, "So where could Patton have possibly run to?"

"I don't know, sir." Hilda thinks of the broken body they threw into the mine shaft, blood still leaking from his face. He's surely dead by now.

She doesn't want anyone else to die.

He turns away from Hilda and she lets out a breath that she didn't notice she was holding. 

"I suppose we can start with the tailor shop." Remus tells the window, his arms gripping each other in a line across his back. "Did the boys know each other?"

"They met, once. Before Patton ran off." Hilda relays reluctantly. "Do we really have to-"

"Yes, I believe that is where he would have run first. You can ask around, figure out where-"

"There's no 'me', sir. Patton already knows what I look like. He locked me into his own cell."

"Right, yeah, that's embarrassing for you!" Remus cackles, twisting one of the many rings on his fingers " I could have killed you, I was so mad."

He would have. He wanted to. But she convinced him she was of use. His eyes flicker with something dangerous, but he doesn’t act on it. 

"Fine..you stay here and keep an eye on the tailor boy. Don't let anything happen while I'm gone. I'll fetch Patton myself."

"What are you going to do to him? You can't still be planning to marry him?"

"No, of course not." Remus scoffs, "He's proven to be smarter than I thought he was. I'm sure he’d be happy to be reunited with his love again.”

  
  
Hilda takes a moment before she realizes what he means. “Sir, you  _ couldn’t _ -”

  
  
“You  _ know _ I could, carrot-top. He’s just a whiny little royal.” Hilda never liked Patton. She finds him too sunny, too bright, too nice. She initially was thrilled with the kidnapping job, just to see  _ anything _ but a smile on his face...But she’s starting to see that her priorities were a bit out of order. “He’d barely even put up a fight.”

“I-” She starts, thinks better of it, and stops. “Okay. So what then?”

“His mother will be free real estate at that point, desperate, grieving. It’ll be too easy.”   
  


Hilda flinches. “Oh my god.”

  
  
“No god but me, darling!” He fastens his cape across his shoulders “I’m off to loserville. See you.”

  
  
She watches him go, watches him slam the door behind him--leaving her alone. 

She’s been poor all of her life. Unhappy, starving, rough and tumble- everything that comes with poverty, seasoned with a dash of bitterness. She hated the royals, hated the way they’d parade around the streets in their fine suits and too wide smiles, as if it would make them  _ happy. _ As if it would  _ help _ . The king was corrupt, cruel to his wife and to his servants, distant at best with his son, but still loved largely by the people. The economy was good for the middle class, but it just kept pushing and pushing the poor to get ever poorer. Hilda was mad, beyond mad,  _ enraged _ .

So she took Remus’ offer to assist in killing the king.

He gave her an entry level job as a housemaid (not Patton’s nanny, as she told the tailor boy), cleaning hallways and shit. 

  
And when the time came she couldn’t do it; kill him and his child and wife by chlorine gassing them in the safe room. 

  
Remus called the alarm and she was supposed to do it. She was supposed to do it. She was-

But she couldn’t.

So his plan failed. He (somehow) didn’t know it was her fault and she owes her life to that fact.

But now it’s all in vain. She still doesn’t like the royals, their little problems are so  _ annoying _ . But she isn’t letting anyone else die. She shouldn’t have let the Logan boy die.

And even if there’s another casualty, she won’t let him get  _ away _ with it.

Remus writes everything down in journals, she had the (dis)pleasure of coming across one once. She very carefully sifts through the things on his desk, in the drawers, on the floor.

“There you are.”   
  
She tugs free a little leather bound notebook tucked in the bookshelf.

_ Operation:Royal. _

_ Plan E: Marry the boy _

_ Failed. _

_ Plan F: Fuck it. _

_ Just kill them all. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to find a good posting time. What's the best time for you guys? I want to reach as many people as possible lol. 
> 
> Love you all!


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